Thanks For the Memories
by Eric Draven201
Summary: The forever nosey demonesses, Trish and Lucia rifle through Dante's things and find a photo album. The memories of the twins are recounted through their first mission together. Rated for language and violence.
1. Photograph

**A/N:** This takes place after DMC 4 leading into DMC 2 (Thank-you for clearing that up, Satanic Park Of Madness). Enjoy and please review. I **don't own** DMC, its characters, or any songs or artists mentioned in this fan fic.

_**Look at this photograph  
Everytime I do it makes me laugh...**_

_**Every memory of looking out the back door  
I had the photo album spread out on my bedroom floor**_

**_-Nickelback_**

* * *

Chapter 1: "Photograph" 

There hadn't been any reports of demons or calls to the Devil May Cry offices for weeks. This afforded a rare opportunity for the team to relax and take some time off. Lady and Dante had fled to the beach four days ago and were sure to return any day now. Trish had decided to stay and keep an eye on the place. This was not to say that she had no life outside of work. No, quite the contrary; she used her time off to shop for new clothes and go club hopping with Lucia. When she wasn't out and finally determined that club H2O and Platinum seemed too much alike, she resolved herself to clean the pigsty that Dante dare called an office.

In the span of two days, she and Lucia had cleaned and waxed the hardwood floors, dusted the demon skulls, cleaned and sharpened the Devil Arms, rearranged the furniture, and fully stocked the refrigerator. "Whew! I'm exhausted," exclaimed Lucia plopping down on the red leather sofa now located on the right side of the lobby in front of a thirty-inch plasma screen. Once settled she grabbed the remote on the end table closest to her and began flipping through channels.

"I know what you mean," said Trish sitting next to her, "Don't forget we still have to contend with the rooms upstairs."

"I know," Lucia sighed, settling on a channel.

"Well… at least he's gotten a lot better at picking up after himself." Lucia agreed to Trish's statement. It was still true that Dante was a messy, messy man; however he was wasn't the same loud mouth kid from years ago. Since his battle with Arius and the other devils that were almost raised, Dante became a little mature. Not only did he help keep his shop "tidy," but he even cooked. And he cooked well! He had his usual pizza and strawberry sundaes; however he was able to provide something tasty and different for those who ate over.

He still had that arrogance and charm that attracted the ladies and the smart mouth to egg on those devils, but he had the skill to back it up. He trained harder to be better and faster… even as far as to take on all of his female counterparts and when available, his own brother in sparring matches. His speed (with Quicksilver) could now rival Vergil's teleportation.

Rest was over and it was time to tackle those bedrooms. "The mission," Trish started dramatically, "if you so choose it, is to clean and organize Dante's room." She began humming the _Mission: Impossible_ theme. Lucia stared at Trish who was now getting _way_ into her theme song. Seeing Lucia's expression, Trish slowed to a halt. Lucia finally parted her lips to emphatically say, "HELL, NO!"

"Awww! Come on!"

"No!"

"Let's play rock, paper, scissor. Best two out of three," Trish trying her best to exude Dante's charm.

"No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No."

"Fine… I'll help you," said a defeated Trish.

"Mmmm… Okay," Lucia finally agreed, "but you are not bailing on me this time."

In the past, it had always been the same. Trish would decide that the shop needed an entire overhaul. This included Dante's room. Few would enter and even fewer would the leave the same. Trish and Lucia would enter the room together; wade though a sea of clothes covered in blood and demon entrails. Once in the center of the room, Trish would leave at the last second, leaving poor Lucia to fend for herself in the "jungle." Eventually, maybe even hours later, Lucia would stumble back into the hall, leaving behind pieces of her sanity.

Both women rummaged through Dante's desk for some "liquid courage" before they braved the wilds. Clad in blue jumpsuits, hair tied up, and sporting paper filter masks, they climbed the stairs with cleaning supplies in hand.

"Okay," said Lucia, "On three. One… Two… THREE!" She and Trish kicked the door open. To their surprise they found… absolutely… nothing. Sure Dante's bed was unmade and there were some dirty laundry left in the far corner, but his room was relatively clean. Both women stared confused at each other for a few moments. "Maybe it's all stuffed in the closet," suggested Trish. Lucia nodded and carefully opened the door. Once again, nothing. Clothes were neatly hung while shoes and boots lay against the walls. "Wow," Lucia said in quiet astonishment, "You think Dante's been replaced?"

Trish leaned against the wall closest to the closet and chuckled to herself, "He's a big boy now… no need for us to pick up after him." Lucia started snooping through the closet. She spied a book jutting out from under a cardboard box on the top shelf.

"What are you doing?"

"I figure since… Argh," she grunted with effort, "since Dante isn't here, why not take a peek." She motioned to the book.

"Didn't you know that curiosity killed the cat," her stern voice no more than a whisper, "And it will kill you when he gets home."

"Awww, come on… we'll look and put it back. Besides, what's the harm?"

Trish gave in and helped Lucia dislodge the book. As much she would hate to admit it, she was interested in Dante's past. It wasn't like he went around advertising it. Even when questioned he would change the subject. All she knew was that Mudus killed Dante's mother and kidnapped his brother. Mudus then created her to look and act like his mother just to mess with his head.

The whole thing about him being forced to "kill" his long lost brother only came out when she met Lady. To her, it seemed that he hung out with Lady or Lucia more because Trish reminded him so much of his beloved mother. He would deny it of course. Up until Vergil elected to leave the Underworld, Dante even avoided mirrors as to not catch his twin's gaze. Although his problems happened years ago, the sight of Trish and mirrors would still dredge up some guilt.

They manage to get the book out and place it on the floor. Both sat next to each other to see it clearly. It was black leather bound with red corners on the covers. "A photo album," Lucia cooed, "Awww, Dante keeps family photos." Trish opened the album to see an old and somewhat grainy picture of young man dressed in a white button down shirt and dress pants.

His face was handsome, yet it had some soft boyish features. His ethereal blue eyes seemed to look out past the photo. His hair was white as snow and neatly slicked back. He seemed nervous for he held in his arms a pair of screaming platinum haired boys. "Is that the Legendary Sparda," Lucia gaped in shock. "Yeah, fancy that," said Trish in a more subdued form of surprise.

They flipped to the second page and saw photograph of a thirteen year old Dante clad in red dress shirt and black slacks, Vergil dressed in the same fashion, only with a blue shirt; both sporting their trademark hair-do's and a middle-aged woman in a yellow floral dress seated in front of them. Under the photo read a message: _Your mother would be so proud of the young men I see in front of me. What would be a greater honor to her memory than to take a photograph of you two each moment I get?_

The photograph told more than it probably intended. Vergil and Dante were not at each other's throats, which was queer to the personality clashes of the half-demons. Judging by the quiet demeanor of their poses they had a great respect for this woman, almost as much as they respected Eva. Who was this woman and just how was she able to calm them?

Trish and Lucia find themselves downstairs at Dante's desk fingering through the photo album. One of Dante in a football team photo and another with Vergil dressed a fencing uniform complete with foil in hand. "Amazing," Lucia said glancing at the pictures, "why would he keep these hidden?" They were so engrossed in the album that they hardly noticed when Dante and Lady walked in arguing.

* * *

Please feed me! I live on reviews. 

Dante: (sidles away) You're wierd.


	2. Buy U a Drank

**A/N:** See chapter one for disclaimer.

_What's The Chance A You Rollin Wit Me  
Back To The Crib  
Show You How I Live  
Lets Get Drunk Forget What We Did_

_I'mma Buy U A Drank… _

_I Got Money In The Bank_

_**- T-Pain**_

* * *

Chapter 2: "Buy You a Drink" 

"I still say that you should have given those men their money back," Lady said to Dante while turning the doorknob.

"Hey, they lost it fair and square," Dante shot back holding a huge wad of cash, "Besides, who told them that they could drink _me_ under the table?"

"Well, the idea was planted so they wouldn't start a brawl."

"Exactly," Dante said with a raised eyebrow.

"Whose choice was to use Tequila?"

"If I remember correctly, I wanted whisky and _you _convinced one of those guys that tequila would get me hammered and it was the way to go. Ugh! You _knew_ I hated tequila."

"How was I supposed to know it would take three _bottles_ before you felt the least bit tipsy?"

"Ooohhohoho! So the truth comes out! You wanted me drunk."

"Like it would make a difference," Lady snapped. Dante didn't say anything. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that he was an alcoholic. This was true back when he called himself Tony Redgrave. One thing that he never admitted, not even to himself, was that alcohol was one thing that alleviated the loss of essentially, his entire family. It didn't show on Dante's face, but Lady quickly realized how razor sharp her words were and finally said, "Dammed demon."

"Oh, Yeah? Well…" grasping in his mind for a witty comeback, "Dammed human." She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"One of these days, Lady," Dante said imitating Ralph Kramden from _The Honeymooners_, "straight to the moon!" Her expression softened. She couldn't help but to laugh at his dead on impression.

"Geez, you must be really old to remember _that_ show!" She shook her head crossing the lobby to the stairs. _I'm not that old,_ Dante thought to himself. "What was all that about," Lucia asked without so much as glancing up from the book. "Ah… she's just jealous," Dante answered dismissively. He was more curious of what Trish and Lucia were doing at his desk and why was his bottle of Jim Beam empty. Once in front of the desk he continued his short statement, "A few men made a wager with me… they all passed out… I got a grand… the end."

He instinctively knew what they were intently looking at and decided not to big deal about. Dante sat in one of the two the red and black, oddly shaped Swedish chairs carefully situated in front of the cherry wood desk. He ran a finger down the opposite armless chair and asked, "Your handy-work, Trish?" She looked up and said, "Yeah. Can you believe it; Lucia and I ordered them the days ago and they were delivered in parts! Luckily, Enzo stopped by and helped." She turned the page and Lucia said, "I had no idea that you were so sentimental." "Neither did I," said a familiar voice from behind Dante. "HOLY SHIT," Dante screamed nearly falling out of the chair. "Don't do that! You'll give someone a heart attack," he yelled defensively, clutching his chest.

"I couldn't help it little brother. It was just so easy," Vergil laughed while placing a hand on Dante's shoulder. Dante could never get used to Vergil sneaking up from behind. During combat, Vergil's tricks were to be expected, but that was one thing, this was different. Teleportation was a fickle bitch. At the moment Dante was stuck on just how traumatizing Vergil deeds were.

* * *

Twelve year old, Dante could feel himself getting sleepier and sleepier, eyelids barley supporting themselves. He stared across to his mirror image who seemed well rested and wide-awake. A blonde-haired boy sitting next to Vergil glanced at his watch and commented, "They've been at it for at least twenty-two hours. Not so much as a blink." He waved a hand in front of Vergil's blank face. Vergil quickly swatted the boy's hand out of the way causing a small squeak to escape from his lips, all without glancing away from his brother. A Black boy with neck-length corn rowed hair sat down next to Dante and said in a slight southern accent, "One thing's for sure, these make one helluva sleepover… wait, wait… I think Dante's reaching his limit."

Little by little, Dante's brilliant blue eyes began to disappear behind his lids. Within seconds his eyes were completely closed and his body fell backwards with a soft thud. His platinum hair drifted across his face, covering his eyes and most of his nose. An unconscious half-smile slipped across his face, as his tired form was happy to see some sleep after a day's deprivation.

Vergil calmly shook himself from his trance, stood and regarded his sleeping brother coolly. He softly kicked Dante in the side with no response and said, "I thought he'd never fall asleep. Looks like I win."

"Vergil, is he gonna be okay," asked the corn rowed boy.

"We shall see," he answered cryptically turning to leave the living room. The blonde boy followed. The corn rowed boy looked at the still sleeping Dante; his head uncomfortably tilted against the black leather couch. "That's gonna be sore in the mornin'," he said flicking off the light switch off and headed up to his room.

At about five o'clock in the morning, Dante opened his eyes as hues of orange and purple splashed into the room. He felt the light warm his face. As he went to straighten his head, he had the sensation of countless pins and needles striking him in the neck. He went to rub his painful spot and learned that he couldn't move his arms. He then tried to wiggle his fingers and toes with no luck. His whole body was paralyzed, but oddly enough he was freezing. He opened his mouth to scream his brother's name. No sound came out. He could hear the birds chirping outside, so he knew that he hadn't gone deaf.

He heard a low chuckled emanating below him. Spiked silver hair entered his field of vision and Dante instantly knew what was happening. "How's it hanging, little brother," Vergil said coldly, lying down to make eye contact with his twin. He let out an evil laugh that no twelve year old should be able to do. Dante would have given his brother the finger if he could.

Vergil had Dante pinned to the ceiling with his spirit swords. Those swords normally took enormous amounts of energy to manifest making the environment and swords themselves icy to the touch. _Cold… oh so c-c-cold_. Dante could feel the frost building in his lungs. He was a helpless lamb to Vergil. He couldn't even block Vergil from his thoughts.

"I'm sorry… I forgot. You _can't_ talk," Vergil stated sadistically. Dante rolled his eyes. Beneath his polite exterior, Vergil can really be an ass. "_Sucks to be you… stuck on the ceiling, paralyzed body and vocal chords_," Vergil said telepathically. His voice echoed inside Dante's head. Dante rarely ever used telepathy for fear of the pain that would follow. He decided to engage his brother in conversation no matter of the migraines he would have later in spades.

"_What do you want? You won fair and square last night. So what, I can't go a three days without sleep like you,_" Dante thought, narrowing his eyes at Vergil.

"_What makes you think I want something from you?_"

"_Why else am I up here? And stop talk…um… thinking in riddles_" Vergil released a sword from Dante's left hand. It flopped around without Dante's permission and outside of his control. Secretly, Dante admired his brother for his summoned swords (which were partially psychic) and superior telepathic abilities. Vergil could easily do both without breaking a sweat. What's more that he could add more or subtract swords and still hold everything together.

The conversation continued for about thirty more minutes with Vergil removing swords in intervals. Vergil took one of his swords, condensed its form in his clasped hands. He opened his hands to reveal a spirit spider. Dante's eyes grew wide when he saw it. Vergil placed it on his twin.

Soon Vergil noticed blood dripping from Dante's ears and nostrils. His eyes were beginning to roll into the back of his head and his thoughts were becoming increasingly garbled. As much fun as it was to torture Dante, it was no fun to have a dead or brain damaged twin. Vergil eased off and broke the telepathic link. Dante had never held a link this long and Vergil was surreptitiously proud.

"You may leave now," Vergil said verbally while standing to remove the final sword. Dante fell to the floor with a crack, dislocating a shoulder and missing Vergil by mere inches. He popped his shoulder back into place. With his voice restored, Dante said, "Yeah, later, you evil bastard." Vergil handed Dante some tissues to clean up the blood and some prescription strength painkillers. Vergil sat on the floor, placed Dante's head in his lap. Vergil may haven been heartless, but he still loved his brother and could be as comforting as Eva if he wanted.

* * *

Dante had tricks of his own, but Vergil's were unbelievably cruel. He leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling. He watched as a blue ray of light formed into a sword just above him. He quickly rolled out of the chair and rather uncasually walked and positioned himself behind Vergil, Trish and Lucia. Funny how Vergil could invade Dante's thoughts at exactly the right time.

Trish flipped the album to Dante's team photo and asked, "What's this all about?" Dante and Vergil leaned in for a closer look. Dante smiled and said, "Well, that's me." He slipped the photo out and flipped ahead near the back of the album and slipped out another picture. "And, that's Verg," he said pointing to the white-haired devil sitting on the shoulders of fellow players waving his helmet. "Really," asked Trish. "He's… smiling," Lucia said, positively freaked out.

"When one plays a part, one mustn't do it half way," Vergil said. "At first I didn't believe it could be done," Dante began, "but Verg can really be a convincing me. He helped by practicing or playing games when I couldn't. That got us an undefeated season." "No one found out until after we graduated," Vergil added. They slapped hands celebrating the combined identity "Dangil".

"Yep, Verg here," Dante said slapping his brother's back, "threw the championship game winning pass!" He was quiet for a moment, almost lost in thought. He picked up again and recounted, "Sure Verg and I could work together, but we fought A LOT. High school was…" He paused again and grasped at some memories. "High school," Vergil completed his twin's thought.

* * *

Allow me to defend myself: 

_I_ see Dante and Vergil's relationship like mine and my sisters'. We do some pretty mean and evil things to each other, but we do come to each other's defense and care for each other. (Love-hate) So this is before you claim that I screwed up the characters.

I know that the first two chapters are long-winded... sorry, but scenery set up and all. (Personally I think Ch 2 sucks)

oh well... feed me your reviews.


	3. Bleed It Out

**A/N:** See Chapter one for disclaimer. Thanks for the reviews from: mysticjc1, Fox Soul, Monkey-Girl-XoX, and Satanic Park Of Darkness; they helped. :D

_Say your prayers and stomp it out  
When they bring that chorus in  
I bleed it out digging deeper  
Just to throw it away_

-Linkin Park

* * *

Chapter 3: "Bleed It Out" 

Two platinum-haired devils stood in a battle stance a distance from each other. Brilliant cerulean eyes glowering at the other's. Their pale cheeks crimson-flushed with rage and exhaustion and hair heavy with sweat making it difficult to tell them apart.

Their similar attire did not help matters. Both wore slightly dampened grey, cotton gym shirts that read in red, white, and blue silk-screened lettering, '_Friendly Patriots,_' denoting their high school name and team as well as long, blue and white jersey-knit shorts. Their only hopes at outside identification were their shoes. Dante had his red and black sneakers and Vergil, his white shoes striped with blue.

Vergil donned his trademark scowl that would make the most seasoned war veteran crap his pants. Dante allowed a cocky grin to creep across his face as he said, "You're going down!"

"No. It is you who shall meet his end, little brother."

Each eyed the eight red rubber balls that sat atop the white boundary line that separated the two. Out the corner of their eyes they could see the gym teacher slowly bring the silver whistle up to his dry, cracked, mustached lips.

A hiss of air was exchanged into a high shrill; this was sudden death and the game was on!

The twins ran to the line and each grabbed four, Vergil calmly rolled them past himself and Dante rolled three back and kept one in hand. With shoes screeching across the waxed hardwood, both ran backwards to their original distance, not taking his eyes off the other.

Dante let a small chuckle escape his throat, as did Vergil picking up a ball. They cocked an arm back and launched their respective loads only to have them collide in mid-flight, giving off that hollow, airy sound that all good dodge balls do. They did it again, this time with a little more _umph _in it. The same results only they ricocheted farther, _much_ farther.

One was sent into a set of wooden bleachers full of fellow gym students. Luckily, they parted like the Red Sea just in time to see a segment splinter into a million pieces. The other sailed into the rafters and exploded on contact.

Uh oh… down to six. Seeing their strength displayed on the balls made them bring it down a notch.

Observing this, their classmates made a mad dash for cover. Even Mr. Rizzo, the gym teacher ran. Rizzo, stocky, swarthy and constantly sweaty, had no business teaching gym, as Dante would put it. His potbelly would hang over his gray sweat pants; his white cotton shirt was long ago outgrown and outstretched. He huffed and puffed his way to the bleachers, as fast as his stubby little legs could carry him. No doubt if he wore red overalls and held a wrench, he could double as Super Mario.

Both gathered the balls and readied themselves for an onslaught. Vergil heaved a red comet at Dante. Onlookers could swear that the ball was trailed by flames. Dante stood in place until the last possible second where he bent backwards into a bridge. _That could have some real damage,_ thought Dante admiring the rotation on it. He thrust his legs upward, going in to a handstand for a few seconds, daring Vergil to sling another his way. He then allowed his legs to gracefully drop in front of him bringing him into a standing position, facing Vergil.

"Showoff," Vergil shouted. He was answered with a wink and a smile, "You know it." Dante then hurled one at his other only to see it pass under Vergil harmlessly as he did a toe touch-like maneuver that would put the most limber cheerleader to shame. "Great job, guys," congratulated the frightened Rizzo who was cowering behind the safety of the far bleachers.

The boys continued to trade pitches, quips and death stares until the match became an all-out aerial battle. Luckily everyone was too panicked to notice that the boys were hovering above the gym floor.

* * *

No school is complete without its "hall walkers". She had only transferred to Friendly High School a month ago and already quite adept in skipping class. Cassandra Martin, as she was known, gained a reputation as a fortuneteller. With one touch, she would know what would happen to you in the course of forty-eight hours. Of course, the catch was that no one would believe her. Or rather, could. Often times what she said was cryptic, or the prophesy would be in tongues so far removed from the realm of human understanding. 

Despite this "curse", as she called it, she had her own circle of friends. Not the social recluse as the many before her. She had many acquaintances, a few friends, but one partner in crime, Tanya.

Tanya, the captain of the varsity girls' basketball team and the object of Dante's affection, stood at nearly six feet tall with a lean, slight muscular figure. Her chocolate complexion was as smooth as honey and her coffee colored hair corn-rowed back into funky swirl designs. Her brilliant brown eyes and cherry lip-gloss covered lips projected her wiles. She was truly a beauty; model material. Very much detached from her fellow female jocks. This is no wonder why teachers failed to reprimand her when she roamed the halls.

Cassandra and Tanya were fast friends and more than an unlikely pair. The two chatted and giggled their way to the front entrance of the main gym. Once in front on the steel double doors, they could hear the commotion coming from inside.

"Hey, let's take a look," said Tanya.

"Are you crazy?! It sounds a war zone in there."

"What are you… chicken?"

Without another word, Tanya opened the gym door and motioned for Cassandra to follow. Cassandra reluctantly followed suite and entered the gym, clinging to the back of Tanya's top.

Once inside they could clearly see the devils exchanging red rubber lobs at break-neck speeds and arguing.

"Hey, Tanya, who are those guys," asked Cassandra, mesmerized by their silver hair.

Tanya stared at her companion briefly and realized that she had only been there a month.

"Well, my dear friend Cassi," she began hooking an arm Cassandra's neck, "You are looking at the two most popular guys in school. The twins… they didn't even _try_ to get their current status and yet they are known throughout the entire county."

"Okay… so who's who," the confused Cassandra asked.

Tanya took a moment to listen to their conversation before giving her friend an answer. She heard the junior yell obscenities at his senior and the elder use words far beyond the younger's understanding. Tanya chuckled a bit.

"The kid who needs to wash his mouth out with soap is Dante and more reserved one is Vergil. They are one in the same and yet different, like fire and ice. Trust me; you'll know the difference most of the time."

"Aww… just like _The Divine Comedy_," Cassandra realized. Tanya laughed again. Not sure if it was something she said, Cassandra asked, "What?"

"This is going to be an interesting match. Dante is always seen as more athletic. It's hard to tell with his face always stuck in a book, but Vergil's got some moves too. After all, we won the championship because of him."

"But –" Cassandra was cut off.

"The trophies and accolades will always bear Dante's name, but it was Vergil that played in the 'Ship."

"How do you know this?"

"Well… I know for a fact that Dante wasn't at the game… no where near it. You see, he was grounded the day before the game. On my way there, I saw him mowing the lawn and his guardian, Ms. Quatermaine, overseeing it. The game itself was over thirty miles away. Unless Dante had wings or something, it couldn't be him playing."

"Are you sure, you didn't get it wrong?"

"No! Just before half-time _he_ was sitting on a bench reading Shakespeare, something that Dante wouldn't be caught doing. I don't think it was the first time the twins traded places. Vergil's smile seemed so put on… so fake. I know I don't have enough evidence to prove my case and it looks as if no one sees it or even cares."

The girls were silent now, more interested in the clash in front of them.

The twins' eyes glowered at another, seemingly telling the other that _this has gone on long enough_. At the same time, they scrambled to the nearest ball. There was only one ball closest to Dante and four surrounded Vergil.

Vergil chose to end this with a feint tactic while Dante went on the defense; the furthest from his style. Poor Dante didn't see the strategy until the last moment.

Vergil tossed his red spheres straight up and waited until they had succumbed to gravity; once in hand he them flung at Dante one by one. One. Dante did what moves he could to either deflect or dodge Vergil's rubber maelstrom. Two. _Almost made contact_. Three. _One more and I win_. Vergil's ammo hovered somewhere in mid-air. Dante timed his final volley perfectly, so that it would hit Vergil as he went up to catch his final ball. Or so he thought. Dante released and for a split second he could read his twin's mind.

"Nooooooooo," a long, forlorn shout escaped his throat. The class and Rizzo appeared from the woodwork to see the end of the game.

Some were left not understanding why Dante didn't have a prayer to win. But this was much like a chess match where a player realizes that he has lost in about five moves. Vergil simply had a superior strategy and that was it.

Dante had wanted to fly up and spike the ball at his brother, but it could not be done; at least not in the presence of so many humans. He collapsed to his knees and watched helplessly as it sailed toward Vergil.

To add insult to injury, Vergil caught his ball and calmly placed on the floor it at his side. He then snatched Dante's ball from the air without so much as glancing at it. Game. Set. Match. And Vergil had won.

"Great game, guys," shouted Rizzo creeping out from the shadows with some unease. His voice had a tone that tried to convey that he had been in control this whole time. "Hit the showers," he bellowed.

The students chatted excitedly as they walked to the locker rooms. Vergil stood there growling away the occasional congratulatory remarks.

Dante, however, remained on the floor still in shock over what had transpired. _I had that won. Why didn't I win?_

The thoughts seemed to swirl away when one of his best friends reached down to pull up Dante. A smile spread across his face and he let out a slight chuckle.

Meanwhile, Rizzo was having trouble collecting the gym balls into a large white knitted bag. Cassandra and Tanya clamored to help contain the red rubber mess, but one did get away.

Soon some other friends gathered around Dante to praise him on his acrobatic feats and other dodgeball skills as they too headed for the locker room.

Dante continued to talk with his friends, until he could feel that buzz in the back of his had. As he got closer the "buzz" progressed into chatter and then into whispers.

The group passed by Vergil. Only then did the whispers become clear unmistakable words that only Dante could hear.

Dante stopped in his tracks and turned to see Vergil's face contort into a sick, evil smirk. Normally Dante would keep his cool, but soon his pale features began to redden with anger. Vergil had finally succeeded in egging his little brother on and there would be hell to pay.

The rogue rubber ball made its slow roll to Dante's feet as if fated. Dante reached down and grappled it as if he was going to pop it like a balloon with only his grip.

The boys clamored to cool down Dante, who was normally the one to calm them down. Rizzo looked up to see Dante snarl at his twin trough clenched teeth. He knew that a fight with the twins would only end in one way: one would be beaten unconscious by the other. Sometimes there was no clear winner.

"Not again," Rizzo uttered rushing off to prevent a disaster. Cassandra and Tanya couldn't help to watch what was about to unfold.

Rizzo made his way in between the boys to keep the peace. Dante launched the ball which rocketed just inches from Rizzo's face. Vergil had no time to react.

The six other people present watched as the red rubber blur slammed into Vergil's face with a sickening crunch, knocking him backwards.

Vergil stood up and began his composed walk toward Dante with blood gushing from his now misshapen nose. He popped it back into place without missing a step.

With lightening speed, Vergil lunged at Dante with a palm thrust to the chest. Dante brushed off the nearly fatal attack and countered with his own torrent of punches and kicks.

Vergil took on his brother's hits and returned his own blows, working Dante's face and torso. Dante fell to the floor and Vergil straddled his younger and continued his strikes. Vergil didn't let up until everyone could hear Dante's ribs cracking.

Vergil hopped off, wiped the blood off his face and said in an icy tone, "If any needs me, I'll be in the shower."

Rizzo shouted in what seemed to Dante as a low, muffled voice, "SOMEONE, GET THE NURSE!"

Dante struggled to pick up his head and wheezed, "Vergil, you assh–"

And Vergil won again.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: Yay! **There's finally some action!Sorry this took forever to write. My notebook was stolen and I had to rewrite Chapter 3 from memory. The original chapter was much more comical and my proofreaders/co-workers thought that it read more like a parody of a Dragonball Z fight.

It seems much heavier, but I'm happy with the changes. There so much detail and I ought to cut out some but I don't know where.

Two things to clear up:

A.) I really went to Friendly High School in Maryland and those were really our school colors and that was really our team/mascot name.

B.) Neither Cassi nor Tanya are going to be Mary Sues.

_Reviews are almost as good as Zoloft._


	4. My Immortal

**A/N:** Thank you to all reviewers. See Chapter one for disclamer.

This chapter was written upon request by Satanic Park of Darkness... so enjoy one and all and don't forget to review.

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears  
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears  
And I held your hand through all of these years  
But you still have  
All of me_

- Evanescence

* * *

Chapter Four: "My Immortal" 

"So…" began Lucia, stifling a laugh, "you let Vergil beat you up?"

"Not exactly," Dante answered. He allowed his mind to flash to a time when he hit Vergil in the head with an aluminum bat when they were in Little League. Then he thought of Vergil breaking his kneecaps with a golf club later that day in retaliation. _We were five._ _Where _did_ he find a golf club?_

"That whole stunt was followed by weeks of counseling," Vergil glared at Dante, "It seemed that he wasn't happy until the both of us were in trouble."

"I was only helping you vent. Keeping things bottled up is not healthy, you know." Dante smiled and Vergil rolled his eyes at the comment.

Trish turned to the next page. There, plain as day was a teenage Dante getting his hair corn-rowed by a stunning Black girl. She was smiling down at Dante who was clearly wincing while trying to smile for the photo.

"Let me guess," said Trish, "Is that Tanya?"

"Yep... that's my girl. Of course, she didn't really agree to go out with me until our senior year. After graduation, she was signed to a model agency. We don't keep in touch much anymore, but I think she's in Paris or Milan now. "

"What Dante doesn't tell you is that he almost signed too," Vergil said.

Dante frowned. Lucia and Trish lit up, wanting to know more. Vergil flipped through some pages before landing on the well-hidden evidence. It was an advertisement torn from the pages of a magazine. They scan the full paged ad and let out light snickers. It was a topless Dante in cargo shorts, leaning against a rocky buff and casually looking away from the camera. A drop water seemed to travel down his well-defined abs and to his thumbs which were tucked into his belt loops. His hair was much shorter than it is now and neatly styled into small spikes. In the bottom right portion of the ad read 'Abercrombie and Fitch'.

All but Dante were laughing. "'Abercrombie and Fitch', Dante? It makes sense," Lucia exclaimed between breaths.

"There's more," Vergil said almost gleefully. He pulled out a black and white Calvin Kline ad. Dante now beet red from embarrassment, snatched up the flyer before anyone could get a clear look at it.

The girls of course protested. An arrogant smile crept across his face as an idea popped into his head.

Dante crumpled the paper and ate it.

Trish sighed, "I guess that's the end of that."

Lady descended the stairs and asked, "What's going on?"

"You missed it," said Trish, "Vergil was showing us that Dante used to model."

"Are you talking about the Calvin Kline ad? That was all over New York billboards a few years ago. I admit, I stopped and stared while I was there. Let's face it; Dante's hot... especially in his undies," said Lady with fingers dangerously close to pinching his backside. The other two women agreed.

Dante wasn't sure he was more upset about: the fact that his own twin betrayed him or that his female companions now thought of him more as eye candy. Somehow he could feel them mentally undressing him.

Dante frantically flipped through the pages to find _anything_ to change the subject. He stopped at photo of Eva reading a bed time story to the sleeping twins. A tear welled up in Dante's eye at the sight.

Vergil of course, felt like doing the same, but he was never one to show emotion especially when gloomy, let alone share his feelings. "Are you alright, Dante," Lady asking the obvious. He wiped away the tear and smiled. "Yeah," he lied, "just something in my eye."

Trish could see in Dante's face that looking at this picture was particularly painfully. Without a word, she attempted to change the page. Dante placed a hand on hers and said softly, "Its okay."

Vergil could see that Dante was still collecting himself. He went ahead and explained, "This was taken the night Father died and a couple years before Mother was killed."

----

"But now that they arrived, the Lost Boys did not to stay. 'We've sort of decided to stick with Pan,' they said." Eva glanced at her sleeping boys while finishing the final line in the book. "So Wendy, John, and Michael waved good-bye as Peter Pan's ship sailed off through the sky, taking the Lost Boys home to Never Land, where they still live today."

Sparda stood in the doorway and snapped a picture before Eva closed the book.

"Sparda... You've got to warn a girl before take a picture. I must look horrible."

"Not at all, milady; you look positively radiant," he replied walking towards her.

"Oh, really," she questioned. He bent down to kiss her.

Eva was positively trapped by her sons. She sat in the twin-sized bed with their heads weighing down her lap. Sparda picked up Dante and carefully laid him in his own bed. Meanwhile, Eva tenderly slipped out from underneath Vergil, minding his head and all. Both parents kissed the twins on their foreheads, bidding sweet dreams.

Sparda turned to Eva and said, "That is not the Pan I remembered."

"I know," said Eva, "I learned to switch to the Disney versions when _Alice in Wonderland_ gave Dante nightmares."

They quietly left the room and entered their own.

Demon sleeping habits are fickle at best. They may not require sleep, but they will do so anyways. Half-breeds on the other hand require sleep like humans, but are generally light sleepers. Dante on the other hand may the exception to this very rule, for he sleeps like a rock. If a tornado would come crashing through his room right now, he wouldn't be roused.

Vergil awoke to sounds coming from the other room. It was Sparda and Eva speaking. He stood on his bed and pressed his ear to the wall. It was very faint, but he could make out what they were saying.

If a devil wanted to, he could know every detail of what is going on in another room. Sure remote viewing was a possibility for some, but sound was used by most. Just by using sounds in a room, a demon could tell how many people are present based on heart beats and their positions based on echoes.

Vergil could detect the anxiety in their voices. It had scared him to the point that he had to wake Dante.

"Dante, get up," Vergil whispered while violently shaking his other.

"What, V," said the six-year-old.

"Just get up here listen." Dante obeyed.

"Split them up," Eva questioned, "They are all they've got. I honestly believe they will not survive if they are separated." She could see the logic in Sparda's plan. If the devils caught one, they could not gain power without the other. But Dante and Vergil had never really been apart. They did just about every thing together. As a mother, she couldn't leave them in that situation.

"You could take both of them; I will head them off and take them off your trail." Eva definitely preferred this plan, but it did mean that she may never see her husband ever again.

"My sources tell me that they are on the move and that they will be upon us in mere days. We should move them soon, milady, whist we have the upper hand."

Eva agreed. "I'll go wake them," she said.

She wasn't surprised to walk into the room and find that the twins were awake and knew to a point what was happening.

"Mom, why do we have to leave," Dante asked.

She sat Vergil on the bed next to him and crouched to their level. She sighed and said, "Do you remember when Mommy said that you both have something special inside of you?" The boys nodded.

"Well, there are some bad... " she paused, groping for the right words, "...people out there who want to take that special something. Mommy and Daddy are going to make sure they don't get it. So, now we have to go and hide."

Eva had been prepared for moment that devils had figured out that the "traitorous" Sparda had offspring. She kept it in the back of mind when scrapped knees were instantaneouslyhealed or when the boy managed to lift items that weighed twice as much as they did.

Images of devils capturing her sons, invaded her waking thoughts for six years. Even at birth, she often thought about what powers they would acquire… If any. Still… she had to push these aside and think of only one thing… survival.

She silently helped the boys get dressed and packed. Within the hour, they had loaded up the car and said goodbye to their home forever.

They settled into the black sedan for a long road trip. The boys quietly played with action figures in the backseat as a decidedly worried Eva fiddled with her fingers in the front passenger seat. The perpetually calm, Sparda placed a hand on hers in attempt to quell her fears.

So, Sparda drove into the night, tailed only by the full moon. Eva glanced behind her to see that the twins had already dozed off; she on the other hand, was still far too manic to sleep.

Just after midnight, he stopped on a wooded dirt road and turned off the car.

"What's going on," questioned Eva.

"This is where we part," Sparda answered in a solemn voice. He leaned over the center console and planted a tender kiss on her lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said with tears in her eyes. He gingerly wiped them away with his thumb.

He reached under the seat and handed her a set of handguns and said, "These are Luce and Ombra. They work just the Glocks we practiced with at home. There's the gray duffle bag in the back for the boys, please make sure they receive it on their sixteenth birthdays."

Eva knew exactly what he was referred to. She nodded, speechless. He kissed her once again. "Azrael will be here in a moment to escort you. Please, be safe darling."

Just as Sparda exited the car, Azrael, for lack of a better word, swooped in.

He landed just in front of the still-burning headlights almost soundlessly, giving Eva a start. He stood at an unassuming five foot eight inches and appeared to be a bit underweight. His pale skin and amber eyes reflected on the moonlight. His black and plum-streaked hair was brushed back into short spikes. He could very well pass for Sparda's younger brother, despite the hair and eye colors.

Sparda bent down and said to Eva through an open window, "This is Azrael. He's a trusted friend and a skilled warrior. As long as you follow what he says, you should fine." Azrael seemed to be no older than twenty.

The sight of the young man decked out in punky garb, nearly made her scoff. Perish the thought that a youngster would be a great fighter!

Eva also knew that a demon's true age held no correlation to their human appearance. Besides, Sparda would never trust another demon without good reason. If her husband relied on him, she could too.

Sparda opened the backdoor and kissed his sleeping sons on the top of their heads. He whispered, "I want you both to know that no matter what, you were loved."

He tried his best to hide the fact that his heart breaking. He flashed a half-hearted smile to his wife as his deep blue eyes bid a final farewell.

He once again left the car and traded words with Azrael. Translucent wings sprouted from his back as Force Edge materialized in his hands. Azrael bowed and Sparda was off.

Once Sparda was out of sight, Azrael jumped into the driver seat, started the car and took off at full speed.

"Good evening, milady. I am Azrael and I am here at your service. Do not worry; I shall have you at your destination at no time at all." A grin crept across his face as he concentrated on his driving… if you could call it that.

What freaked Eva out more was not only did this man look like he could be in his teens; he drove like he was too.

As promised, he brought Eva to her new home. Less than two hours after Sparda's departure, they pulled into the driveway of a suburban "cookie cutter", colonial-styled house.

Azrael parked and turned off the car. He jangled some keys in his pocket, searching for the house keys.

Eva may have kept in mind that she would have to eventually hide the twins, but Azrael and Sparda had actually planned it to a "tee."

Azrael opened the car door for Eva and proceeded to carry Vergil into the house as she held Dante. She was somewhat astonished to see that the house was fully furnished and decorated.

They redressed the boys and brought them to their beds. Azrael showed Eva to her room and then unloaded the car. Some moments later, he returned to her and said, "I must assist Sparda. Rest well, milady." He turned and disappeared. She couldn't tell if he teleported or simply phased through the wall. With devils, she could never tell.

------

In mere moments, Azrael was at Sparda's side facing the hordes demons.

"I thought archangels of death do not dirty themselves with the blood of devils."

"I thought devils didn't marry humans," Azrael replied with a smirk, "Besides, you forget one thing, Sparda."

"What's that?"

"I was an archangel long before I was a messenger of death." At the end of his statement, a flaming broadsword appeared in his hands.

Sparda cracked a smile and they rushed at the ranks. In mid stride, each went into his respective triggers. Sparda standing at least seven feet tall in his dark armor topped with imposing horns and glowing mauve aura. Azrael was now in shiny silver armor and steely gray wings protruding from his back surrounded by a tawny glow.

Some of the lesser demons saw this and ran back to hell. Still the many others stood and fought. Each of the knights made swift, broad strokes. Many were felled on their swords and more came in droves.

-----

Eva found herself in the boys' room just barely awake, holding surveillance. Before she knew it, the sun was rising and it was time wake the boys and ready them for school. Just as she was about to rouse them, she realized that hadn't enrolled them into their new school yet. She chuckled at the thought.

Who could blame her? It had been a pretty neurotic night.

_Best to let them rest,_ she thought.

Her back stiffened at the crashing sound just outside the window. She opened the curtains a peered out at the front lawn. She spied and man dressed in white lying there.

Without another thought, she raced downstairs and out the door. A second passed as she staring at the motionless, white clad body. She turned it over to see the boyish face of Azrael.

Blood trailed out the corner of his mouth. She saw that he was bleeding profusely from the abdomen. Blood even stained his steely wings.

"Azrael," Eva called patting at his cheeks.

"Azrael?" A moan escaped his throat. Eva looked around for witnesses as she dragged the angel into the house.

His pallor was now alarming close to color of his robes.

To Eva's surprise, she was able to easily lift Azrael and lay him on the couch in the den. He was actually not much heavier than one of the twins.

She rushed to the bathroom and returned with an arm load of towels. Eva placed a towel and pressure on the wound. The very real possibility that the man could bleed to death on her sofa was quickly brought to mind. _Azrael was a devil… right? So, why wasn't he healing?_

Azrael's eyes flickered open for a moment and began to close again.

"Azrael!" She called in his ear, desperately trying to keep him awake.

"Azrael!" she called again to gain his attention, "What can I do to help you heal? What is it that devils need?"

"I –" He was cut off by a series of wet coughs. "I am not… one of the fallen. I am the archangel of death."

Eva was beginning to understand. Still needing more, she asked, "Why aren't you healing?"

He groaned trying to sit up. "I'm fine... I just can't transform… been in the Underworld for too long." Her eyes widened in horror when she realized what he was getting at.

"What happened to Sparda?" She was almost to afraid to ask.

"We chased some back to Hell… but then there were so many… I was getting weaker… I'm sorry, milady, Sir Sparda did not make it."

All she could do was gasp at the news. She dropped to her knees and wept and wailed. Azrael comforted the woman.

"I swear to you, I will train your sons in the way he would have wanted and I want you to know that he fought valiantly and it was an honor to do battle at his side."

Eva was inconsolable, as she rightfully should be. In one night, she lost her husband and soul mate. The war waged on inside. She stood there numb, unable to display emotion. Her eyes and nose were now rosy as she let out small sobs.

She and Azrael heard a floor board creek. Their heads snapped over to see Vergil and Dante, standing there in a matching set of Power Ranger pajamas. Eva beckoned them over and embraced her sons.

"I have to tell you something –" Eva began.

She was cut off by Dante, "Daddy's not coming home. Is he?"

She should have known that they knew… After all they are his sons.

* * *

_I seriously could have done better..._

_My favorite part about this was imagining the A&F ad. (Ladies, feel free to swoon!)_

_As soon as my final papers come into fruition, I will update and take my time on it._

_Here's a little tidbit: the archangel of death in many Islamic, Judeo-Christian, and Hebrew beliefs is known as Azrael (The spelling does differ in certain traditions)._

_Reviews?_


	5. Failing the Rorschach Test

Gomen Nasai (I'm sorry)! It has been a while… Procrastination is my weakness. I honestly wrote the majority of a chapter, hated it and then deleted it (several times!!). Anyways this is a new day and a new chapter in the boys' lives.

Thanks to all who added and to the reviewers: **Satanic Park Of Madness**, **Brown.eyes.and.bushy.tales**, **spinnel**, **sanya**, **Vampire** **Queen**, and **chipp3000**.

Read and enjoy.

_Hey Alice  
I'm caving in  
I know it's not allowed  
But sometimes I fantasize  
I'm peeling off my skin  
Enough to fill it up again  
Hey Rabbit  
Into the pavement  
I'm caving in_

Mother told me to be something  
So I'm afraid enough to stay wide awake

–Matthew Good Band

* * *

Chapter Five: "Failing The Rorschach Test"

Vergil had finished and offered one last piece to say. "Father had taught us the basics of combat and Azrael continued to impart his knowledge. From time to time, he'd stop by to teach us his and our father's techniques. Sometimes we'd still see him."

Looking to lighten the mood, Dante said, "He still looks like that same scrawny kid from twenty years ago. He dresses better now."

Vergil smiled a little and then said, "We owe a lot to him… and Miz Liz."

"Miz Liz," Trish questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Miss Elizabeth Quartermaine," Dante said, turning to the beginning of the album; to the group photo including himself, Vergil and the middle-aged woman.

"She adopted Verge and me. She taught us a lot of things, including the Dark and Light Arts."

"Huh," the girls said in unison.

"Yes," Vergil said, "She taught us magic…"

"Best of all, she was like the coolest old lady ever," Dante said with a smile, "She listened any type of music, but Miz Liz was mainly into rock."

"Not to mention that she was a groupie for Hendrix back in the day," Vergil said knowingly.

Trish and Lucia's first instinct was to question who this Hendrix person was. They bit back their questions when Lady interjected, "_The_ Hendrix?! She knew Jimi Hendrix?!" Lady was astonished that she was some degrees from knowing the rock legend. That "friend-of-a-friend" thing.

Then her surprised shifted when she realized that Vergil had said that. Her heterochromatic eyes slid to his direction and her head followed. "Since when do you know about Hendrix," she said to him, "I thought you were more of a Mozart kind of guy."

Vergil coolly shrugged and sat in one of the strange Swedish chairs in front of the desk. "It's hard not to know when you live with Dante." He played into the pretense that he only listened to classical music, when in reality he liked rock just as much as Dante; probably even more.

"She never told me that she knew him," Dante pouted, "It's not fair." His voice was becoming more childish.

"There are many things you don't, Dante," Vergil teased his twin.

_Weirdo. Freak. _The constant taunting came each time he was introduced to a new orphanage or foster home. It was just what they did, an obvious comment on his platinum hair, possibly in conjunction with his silvery-blue eyes and his very fair complexion. He was a beautiful child, seemingly so delicate like an angelic statue crafted from porcelain or marble. Could they simply be jealous of his ethereal features?

There were the initial fights with the bullies that ignorantly thought that they had found yet another scrawny boy to pick on. They soon found themselves wrong when fights with "new kid" ended often times with broken bones, not his own, but theirs. Then it became obvious that the boy was much stronger than he appeared. That was how his world spun around; picked on, then the fights until he was placed elsewhere. He was hardly ever the aggressor, but he was still tagged as a problem child.

Yes, the adults pegged him as fragile, chalked up to the fact that had lost his family in a single night. So they sat back and watched him withdraw into his own world, set adrift in a sea of written words. What else could they do, after all, to them he was damaged goods. And for a while he believed it too. He resigned himself to the notion that his brother had probably died the night his mother was killed and that no family in their right mind would adopt him.

Every now and then he forced to sit before a therapist, to talk about the day he was found, wandering the streets in his charred clothes. He never spoke of that night to anyone. Not one word about the demons that slaughtered his mother in search of him and his brother. Not a whisper of the shattered promise that he made to his father. Not a single tear of emotion. Instead he sank farther into his books where no one or nothing could touch him. A world where the only thing left was his icy façade.

Seemingly half a world away, lived another fair-haired child. A sweetheart by nature, he'd never dream of starting a fight. That is not to say that he would fail to defend himself when the time came. There were similar instances of name calling, but rather than withdrawing, he'd joke around. His fun-loving spirit helped him to make friends with just about everyone he met. Still, as goofy as he was, he'd still engage in reckless behavior. Ever the daredevil, he would carryout the most insane stunts that the boys from the group home could thing of, which included skateboard jumps from urban rooftops to rooftops. Outsiders looking in would place him as well-adjusted considering what he had been through. The adults in his life could only see him as nothing but a troublemaker. By the time he reached thirteen years old, he was already well acquainted with the law. Even the cops knew him by name. Maybe because of his troubles, he was bounced from home to home.

"So Tony... when are you gonna give it up, buddy? You know that you'll never win. Crime doesn't pay."

"You think so," answered a cocky voice from the backseat of the squad car, "Then you really don't know me."

Sometimes the teen felt as if his life was special marathon of the T.V. show, _Cops._ He knew that he could probably outrun the entire precinct without even breaking a sweat. He'd only allow himself to get caught on a whim. And today was a new challenge. They young teen quickly assessed his situation. Just because the police had anticipated that the boy may run at some point, they handcuffed him behind his back and shackled his ankles. The handcuffs didn't have a lot of give; they tightened themselves at the first sign of a struggle and they were situated very close together to make matters worse. Escape at this point would have been nearly impossible, but they didn't know that this guy was a jack-of-all-trades.

He leaned to his side as he managed to push his slender body through the space between his arms. Now that his arms were in front of him, he bent down and reached into his shoe and produced a paper clip (why he has a paper clip in his shoe, I do not know. So, just shut up and enjoy this MacGyver moment). Tony watched the two cops up front conversate, oblivious to what he was doing. He inserted the paper clip in the lock and fiddled with it until the cuffs around his ankles sprung open. His head shot up to see that they hadn't even heard the noise that the cuffs made. All he could do is give a slow head shake for the idiots up front and return to work. He did the same for the cuffs around his wrists. When he finished, he placed them in the seat next to his. A new record of only thirty seconds. _Only if the guys from the home could see me now, see how it's really done._

Soon the car was stopped at the police station and Tony sat calmly in the backseat with his hands behind his back as if he was still cuffed. One of the officers opened the backdoor and the teen slid out. As soon as he was out of the back of the squad car, Tony untucked his hands and handed the cuffs to officer holding the door. "Is there a research and development department you can talk to," the cocky teen said, "because these cuffs are kinda shoddy."

One cop let out a low growl, "Knock it off wise guy." He harshly grabbed Tony's arm and yanked him in the direction of the police station. The boy treated their tried and true restraint system as nothing more than mere child's play and this further angered the rather sheepish-feeling officers. Once inside, they grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and practically dragged him to an empty interrogation room. Why here, you ask? Well, this was simply to do with the boy's age. He was still far too young to be placed in the holding pen with the usual garden-variety criminals.

For about two hours, random detectives continued to question him about the day's events, his involvement. They traded off; alternately giving him the old good cop/bad cop routine. _What's the big deal, _the white haired teen thought; _it was only a little spray paint. It's not like a broke into a store and robbed it._ Still nothing broke his stone face. He only gazed about the room and at the detectives with a near blank stare. "Com' on kid! Just give us the names of who else was there," one detective pleaded. Again he had a spaced out look on his face. The detective let out a heavy sigh, "We're not going to get anything out of him. Besides his guardian is here and the old man is willing to drop the charges if he helps in cleaning up the graffiti."

One detective stepped out of the room to speak to the boy's guardian. A moment later a platinum-blonde haired man with intense green eyes stepped into the room. He was dressed in dark trousers and a canary yellow dress shirt with a slackened black tie and sleeves rolled just below the elbows. He stood at a towering six feet four inches, which dwarfed Tony's five feet nine inch frame. His outward appearance conveyed a strong, strict and harsh man, but in reality he was as gentle and as kind as most orphanage workers came.

The massive man sat across the cocky young teen and spoke, "I heard that you went and destroyed private property."

Tony didn't answer.

The man took a massive hand and brushed his hair back with a deep sigh. "What is it that you want me to do? Huh? I can't keep going in to bail you out, Tony." None at the home were a bigger advocate for the teen than this man. Many a case worker gave up on him years ago, deeming him a lost cause. But the man before him kept urging the others to give him another chance. "You're running out of chances. You have to realize that no one's going to be there to—" The man let his voice trail off and he let out a tired sigh. "Come' on... you have an appointment."

In this world of group homes, an appointment meant that you were about meet with a case worker and a potential family. Both climbed inside the man's late model compact car. The paint was peeling around the door handles and the antenna on the hood was broken, but re-enforced by black electrical tape. The backseat held boxes of manila folders and papers strewn everywhere. He practically lived and worked in this hoopty. This car was a testament of how dedicated this man was to finding homes for these children, rather than choosing this line of work for the money. After all, he was in a similar situation until he was adopted by a loving family.

"Tony," the man began, "cut us all little slack here, huh? All I ask from you tonight is to act civil in front of these folks. This could be a once in a lifetime opportunity; who knows when you could be up for foster or adoption again." He was right. The teen's chances, now that he was older, were slim to nil. Potential families were more apt to browse around for a younger child. Browse... it seemed more like shopping; as if adoption was only a cut above human trafficking.

This happened a few times before, when he was younger. His case worker would tell him that he had an appointment and mere hours before it he'd pack what little possessions he had, be taken to get a hair cut, get bathed and dressed in a suit. The papers were drawn up and the family would sit and interview him. Later that night, he'd leave with his new family and all would be well... For a while.

A bad seed would abuse the boy or some freak incident would happen that would reveal his regenerative abilities and he would be returned to his old home like damaged merchandise. Nowadays, appointments meant nothing to him. Being sent back was only a matter of time.

This time around felt no different, except this time he hadn't been forced to cut his hair or change his clothes; in fact he hadn't bothered to pack. He sat outside a case worker's office as the man introduced the both of them. "Hi, I'm Charlie Baker and this here is Tony Redgrave." Charlie extended his hand to shake with the female case worker. Teen didn't make an attempt; he only nodded in his head in her general direction. "Well, I'm Gracie Abbot," the African-American woman said, remaining chipper.

"Well, now Tony, its been a long time since I've seen you. How old are you now?" There was no answer from the boy.

"Umm, he's thirteen, ma'am," Charlie chimed in, "Where is the family? Shouldn't we be meeting them?" Charlie looked around.

"We will later, in fact she has adopted another boy from a group home today, so I believe she is getting him settled in. So, Tony, tell me about yourself... do you have any hobbies?"

Charlie answered for him. "Well, he's quite the little artist and he is classically trained in music." Gracie gave Charlie a look. "I'm sorry. He's quite resolute in not cooperating. Tony is a bit jaded by this process... this guy has had it tough with our system. I just want to find him a good home and he doesn't believe that it will ever happen for him."

Gracie gave a small sigh, "Tony I know it has been rough in the past, but its our job to make things smoother for you, you'll just have to trust us on that. Just show us a little cooperation, hun. I have a _real_ strong feeling that this is the family for you."

"'Show us cooperation,' you say," the boy let out a mirthless chuckle, "I more than cooperated when I lost my family. _Cooperation?!_" He clenched his fist, trying to hold back the tears welling up in his eyes, "You want me to cooperate?! And for what? For the next asshole to come and drop me off again?"

Gracie could truly feel his pain and rushed over to comfort the boy. "Get off of me! You're no better than the rest of them," he screamed, "No one wants me because I'm a freak!"

"Aww, hun," she tried again. "Is that any way to speak to an adult," a voice cut in. A middle-aged woman with auburn hair tied up in a bun with some streaks of gray showing stood at the door and then approached the area. No one even heard her enter the office. She set her hazel eyes on Gracie and moved closer. She wore a blue and yellow sun and a warm smile across her face. "Good evening, I'm Elizabeth Quartermaine and I am here to see Mr. Baker and Ms. Abbot."

"Ah, Ms. Quartermaine, it is so nice to meet you, I'm Gracie Abbot and this gentleman is Mr. Charlie Baker." Both shook the woman's hand.

"And you must be _Tony._.. now I understand that you have had an unusual upbringing, but you should already know that you must respect your elders." The boy gave her a confused look. They way she said 'Tony' made it seem that there was more at work behind the name. "At any rate, you needn't worry about anything," the woman said in a scarlet drawl, "You've have had a tough past, but I promise that I am here for you."

"Ms. Quatermaine—," Gracie tried.

"Please, call me Liz."

"Liz... We have some questions to ask and we can close our second interview process. It is interesting that you would choose to adopt an older child, sight unseen... especially one with a troubled past. How far see your relationship with Tony?"

"I would say that we will get along just fine. We all have something regrettable in our pasts that we can work past. We can get through it together. I am also caring for a young man at the same age with similar backgrounds."

The three conversed for a little longer before Liz exited the office and stood in front of Tony. "Do have any bags, sweetie?" He shook his head.

"No, matter. I still have a surprise for you." She left for her car, returned and said to no one in particular, "Now, I've always believed that in a process such as this, siblings shouldn't be separated." "Come' on in, honey," she said a little louder towards the door.

The door behind opened and then closed again and a boy dressed in a white tee shirt and blue jeans step in, just making it to Liz's side. He wore a ball cap that hid his hair and his eyes were cast to the ground, making hard to make out his features. "Now, sweetheart, gentlemen do not wear hats indoors," Liz's voice was sweet and seemed to twinkle making her seem like a southern belle.

"They'll make fun of me," the boy said sadly.

"No, they won't. You are in the company of friends and family now. Come closer and introduce yourself." The boy obeyed and took off his cap, revealing snow white hair. He brought his head up to face the others in the room. The other teen sitting near Gracie and Charlie stared at the kid near Liz in utter awe. The surprise showed in his face as his mouth formed a perfect "O." He slowly stood from his chair and questioned in disbelief, "Vergil?" It was like speaking the name of a long bygone ghost. How long had it been since he said that name?

The boy's head snapped up and he looked sharply at the direction his name came from. "Dante?" both walked towards each other, still only half-believing that their double was actually there. Gracie and Charlie were in shock. Both looked to one child and to the other. They had no idea that their very own charge had had a brother or a twin at that! Then the name the other boy used finally donned on the two social workers. Dante. _Wasn't his name Tony?_ "Tony— uh— Dante?" Charlie's voice quaked in confusion. Dante look at the man and said, "Tony isn't my real name. The last thing my mother told me was that I had to hide, at all costs."

The boys were together again, not missing a beat, as if they were raised together all of their lives.

"Now, Ms. Quar— Liz, how exactly did you know that he had a brother?"

"Actually a friend and I were passing by a group home and we happened across Vergil. He informed me that he remembered him from a long time ago and the boy had a twin somewhere. So we took it upon ourselves to search for the other one. We just believe that siblings should never be forcefully separated." Liz glanced at her watch and said, "Look at the time. If there aren't anymore question that you'd like to ask me, then I think it is time for us to take our leave."

"No, we have nothing else to say."

"Good. Come along boys. Let's pick up Dante's things and I have a special dinner planned."

Gracie and Charlie watched them through a window as the boys hopped into the backseat of a black sedan and Liz into the driver seat. With that, they took off.

--

"Aww... Reunited and it feels soooo good," Lucia sang slightly off key. Trish and Lady giggled. "I think I called it," Lady said.

Dante asked, "What?"

"You being a juvenile delinquent."

"Hey... I grew out of it... eventually," the latter seemingly unsure. "But we are deeply grateful to Miz Liz for that."

"So, Dante," Trish asked, "What happened with the old man and the graffiti?"

"Oh, that," Dante said glumly.

Vergil chuckled and said, "Dante spent the _whole_ summer working it off. I guess he realized something that day—"

"Yeah! Run! Run like the wind," Dante interloped.

* * *

_Hoped you liked it! Let me say that I am well aware of a real adoption process and this "ain't" it. With this, I shall take my leave... it is now roughly 5 days until Otakon, so that means that I'll be out of town for rest of the week. As I may be gone are there any requests? Review or PM!_


	6. Bikini Sports Ponchin

A shout out to all of my reviewers: **.Brown.eyes.and.bushy.tales**, **Shadow-of-a-Wolf**, **Satanic Park Of Madness**, **Raziel** **Sotd**, **JordanBu**, **Devil** **Rebel**, **Shadow'sIllusionist**. Thanks to everyone for your continued report by sticking around to read.

**A/N:** You know that I had to sneak in some J-Rock sooner or later! Now, I picked the song more or less for its Rhythm, tempo and its overall manic pace... which would go with anyone's mindset when they are running late for something.

The reason why you don't see the lyrics first like in the past chapters is because I wanted to try something new here. You will see them sprinkled about. As for what the song means... some otaku here may already know, but I am more or less ambivalent in revealing it at large. So if you **really** want to know... you'll just have to review :P. Please Enjoy!

"Bkini. Sports. Ponchin." by MAXIMUM THE HORMONE

* * *

Chapter 6: "Bikini. Sports. Ponchin."

Dante awoke to brilliant light seeping past the closed blind slats and lightly dusting his face. He rose quietly with a stretch and a yawn. He rolled out of the bed and onto his feet. Slow, staggered steps were taken down the hall to the bathroom.

The platinum haired teen turned on a bathroom radio and ran the showerhead. Steam slowly encased the room as he stepped out of his red boxers and into the hot shower.

He stood under the freefall of water, wetting his hair as his skin accepted the water's heat. A used car commercial ended on the radio and a deejay's voice permeated the waves, "Goooood Morning! It's Stryker and here are some old school sounds... coming at you from Outkast."

Dante drummed his fingers on the tile shower walls along with the opening beats. He began shampooing his head while singing into the shampoo bottle much like a microphone. He sang along with the nearly falsetto, echo-y chorus a la Sleepy Brown and Andre 3000.

"_Ain't nobody dope as me I'm dressed so fresh so clean. So fresh and so clean, clean. Don't you think I'm so sexy I'm dressed so fresh so clean. So fresh and so clean, clean. Ain't nobody dope as me I'm dressed so fresh so clean_."

He continued to mumble out the lyrics he wasn't too sure of. After a rinse and a repeat, Dante turned off the showerhead. He stepped out and dried off.

A thorough teeth cleaning ended his morning ritual.

So far, he hadn't seen Miz Liz and Vergil wasn't pounding on the door, complaining that the hot water was being wasted. Dante could never understand why Vergil was so neurotic in the mornings.

So far, so good. Dante made it back to his room with his burgundy towel wrapped around his waist; still no sign of his twin. _Did I wake up first_, Dante questioned himself. _No… that never happens. _

Dante dismissed the thoughts and continued on to dress himself. As far as he was concerned, Vergil could be anywhere. It was likely that had never left the house in the first place. He could be stretched out on the couch somewhere, reading some epic novel.

Then again, there was that one time when Vergil participated in a three day chess tournament. Dante barely noticed the missing sibling even when Miz Liz mentioned it to him on more than one occasion. Dante was never one to pay attention to the particulars.

Nevertheless, the house was empty and he still didn't bother to ask himself, _why?_

He donned a stylishly worn pair of dark blue jeans, a white tee-shirt with the words, 'STFU, please' silk screened in red across the chest. Dante put on a pair of white socks and a set of fresh, high topped red and white sneakers.

He popped in a set of earphones and turned on his iPod. Out of the corner of his eye he spied his digital clock numbers switch to seven-fifty. _Damn it_, he thought to himself, _I'm gonna be late_! Dante raced down the stairs and grabbed the red book bag near the front door. He stepped out of the door and slid his black and red Rumor open to see that Vergil had sent him a text. The time was now seven fifty-one and the message read: 'only nine minutes left and you're still not here.'

Dante coolly sent another back, 'nine minutes and three miles to school... completely doable.'

Then Vergil text back, 'wasting time as always, Dante. Now you only have seven minutes left. Good luck XD.' Dante slid his phone closed and time flashed, '7:53.' _Damn._ Vergil may be a smart-ass, but when he's right, he's right. His window was closing and he had to get to school before the final morning bell rang at eight 'o clock. Dante knew if he was late, he would get suspended... again. Another suspension from school would guarantee yet another harsh punishment from Miz Liz. Dante and Vergil were high school seniors now and they could deal with the simple groundings, no going out, no video games, and the like; but Miz Liz was never that simple. She would bind their powers for a day and enchant the items that they would go for, the games or the front door so that they wouldn't dare to touch it. She was one tough cookie.

Dante looked to the drive way and saw that both cars were gone. Miz Liz was probably at work already and his twin had selfishly taken his only other mode of transportation. He could have waited for a bus or some other form of public transportation, but Dante didn't know how long it would take and he just couldn't back down from a challenge... especially when it came from Vergil. He slipped on the back pack, locked the door, and jogged into the direction of his school. He turned on his iPod and it qued up a random song that set the pace for Dante.

He ran at what seemed to most humans like a full-out run. To him it was more like a light jog. Rain began to drizzle down, lightly landing on the pavement. It still didn't slow him down.

_/Abiru mappiruma! Ore no SPELMA! Tamesu ka? Ero mesu/_

Dante ran past the house familiar 'cookie-cutter' suburban houses on his block. He rounded the corner where he came to the last house on the left; the house belonging to King. He paused for a second to circumspect the area... no sign of him. Dante let out a sigh of relief that is until he spotted him... King.

_/HAMMER! Nameru BUSU! Koumon ni! Karamidasu! Mamonaku! Horobosu!/_

The crazed pit bull was about thirty feet away, but Dante was putting no trust in the dog. Ever since he had moved in with Miz Liz, that dog tormented him. Never Vergil... Just him. It was like the crazy dog had a personal vendetta against Dante.

_/Ora! Ikanimo warega! Hametsuno! Baramos! Itetsuku! Hadou BOSS!/_

Most sane people would try not to make eye-contact with the animal or even run, unless chased. But alas, we are dealing with Dante and a dog. He balled out of the neighborhood and onto the main street. At this moment the teen's 'casual jog' was sped up into 'mild run'. Even then, the dog managed to close the gap between the two.

_/Sono MINI-SKA Mirupo. Mimi ni tako no POSE. Sukebe-isu ga HONEYMOON. Inran jou A! Yoban no ACE! Kamashitare! Geri! Geri! ERO Chouetsu. Fuketsu do S. Chimatsuri kamigami./_

Dante glanced back to see that King was right on his heels and madly snapping his jaws in a wild bark. He then, tried to put his old football skills to work by spinning out and redirecting his body into the opposite direction of where the dog would initially go. And it worked, surprisingly. Dante had managed to 'juke' out a dog. He curved out across the street, narrowly avoiding an oncoming car. The car skidded to a halt and the driver angrily honked his horn and began cursing intensely at the platinum haired teen, "Watch it, you crazy son-of-a-bitch!"

_/Chomolung-mara. Chibu-LABYRINTH. Ero Tepo Dong. Chome chome no MONEY. Chomolung-mara. Chibu-LABYRINTH. Ero Tepo Dong. Chome chome  
no MONEY. BUSTER, SEX APPEAL MONSTER! FRIED Kana-bou./_

"My mother was a saint," Dante was somehow able to shout back.

He was hoping that the dog would either be deterred or get himself hit by a car, but no such luck. Once again, King was hot on Dante's heels. As the short instrumental began, Dante picked up his speed again.

_/BIKINI SPORTS PONCHIN. BIKINI SPORTS PONCHIN. BIKINI SPORTS PONCHIN. MONKEY SPANNER BIG PONCHIN/_

The song picked up too and he turned into an alley way in between two shops. Up ahead he spotted a ten foot tall chain link fence, banking that maybe it would stop the angry dog in its tracks. He stepped up the wall to his right and air hiked off it, landing on the very top of the fence. From there, Dante laughed at the dog below as if were the king of the world. He pulled out his cell phone to check the time. The cell phone flashed '7:55'— Five minutes left.

_/Hitotsu. Hito yorika MACHO. Futatsu. Futago-za no bancho. Mittsu. Himitsu MR. DISCO. Dance Flower! Dance Flower!/_

Dante was just about to swing his legs over to the other side to jump down. Just then, the dog rammed the fence with its head. Dante arms swung about wildly, as he tried to keep his balance. One hand grasped the fence and the cell phone was sent flying out of the other and into King's waiting mouth! _Fuck!_ Dante leaned backwards, flipping off the fence Cirque du Soleil style. King ran off and now Dante was the one doing the chasing.

_/Iyasu! Tetsukazuno HOSTESS. Mitasu! Juu-roku ren PISTON. DYNAMITE ECSTASY. BIKINI SPORT MONKEY SPANNER PONCHIN./_

"Give me my phone back, you damned dog," he yelled trying to catch up with the pit bull. He dived and landed on the dog, causing it to spit out the phone. It clattered to the rain slicked ground and skidded towards a puddle. It teetered dangerously on the each. Dante, still lying on top of the trashing dog, slowly reached over and grabbed. _Ewww! _The phone was sticky with the dog's saliva. He read the time before putting it in the safety of his pockets. _Shit! Four minutes left._ The vocalist screamed out his refrain.

_/Abiru mappiruma! Ore no SPELMA! Tamesu ka? Ero mesu! HAMMER! Nameru BUSU! Koumon ni! Karamidasu! Mamonaku! Horobosu!/_

He pushed off the dog said before taking off again, "As much as love to stick around, I got to go. School and all... Adios!" Dante rounded a corner, with the school just in the distance. A smug smile spread across. _Wait until Vergil sees— _A car's tires squeal and then a crash. Then teen was knocked into the air and landed on the ground just in front a blue car. A beautiful blonde exited her car and scurried over to Dante's sprawled form. He got up slowly to see the concern on the woman's stunning face. Dante was almost hypnotized by the wind and rain playing in her golden locks. She was obviously speaking at a frantic speed, scared and concerned for the kid that she just hit. He couldn't hear her due to song piping through his ear buds. Oddly enough her hand motions were somehow mirroring the soft melodic vocals of the only female in the band, who now sung a short verse.

_/Go in, Go in Matagura people. Youen ni suidasu hone no zui./_

Dante shrugged off the fact that he was just hit by a car and continued on to the school. He raced uphill, through a park and past some trees. Just out of the corner of his eye, he spied two squirrels... mating. They seemed to go along with the tempo of the song. Dante wanted to stop and stare but the song beckoned him to continue. A male vocalist began screaming along with the hard rock sounds in his ear phones.

_/Inran jou A! Yoban no ACE! Kamashitare! Geri! Geri!  
ERO Chouetsu. Fuketsu do S. Chimatsuri kamigami. Chomolung-mara. Chibu-LABYRINTH. Ero Tepo Dong. Chome chome no MONEY. Chomolung-mara. Chibu-LABYRINTH. Ero Tepo Dong. Chome chome no MONEY./_

So, Dante pushed on. The hill was steep, but the young half-devil kept up his pace. The school was just in sight and he could see Vergil standing in front of a glass door, tapping on his watch with a wicked smile spreading across his face. There was less than two minutes left.

Dante came through the main parking lot, checking out the gorgeous seniors that sashayed across the courtyard in their revealing clothes. The chorus was sung.

_/BUSTER, SEX APPEAL MONSTER. FRIED Kana-bou. BIKINI SPORTS PONCHIN. BIKINI SPORTS PONCHIN. BIKINI SPORTS PONCHIN. MONKEY SPANNER BIG PONCHIN./_

He ran up to the door where Vergil met him. Dante stood there, pitifully soaked, head to toe in rain and sweat.

_/Hitotsu. Hito yorika MACHO! Futatsu. Futago-za no bancho. Mittsu  
Himitsu MR. DISCO! Dance Flower! Dance Flower! Iyasu!  
Tetsukazuno HOSTESS. Mitasu! Juu-roku ren PISTON. DYNAMITE ECSTASY! BIKINI SPORT MONKEY SPANNER PONCHIN!/_

The song ended and Vergil caught the evil glint in Dante's eyes. Before he could react, Dante had pressed his wet body against him and said, "Goooooooooooood Morning, big brother!" Vergil's body went rigid at the embrace.

"What are you doing," Vergil questioned quietly with his eyes shifting wildly back and forth.

"Aww! You know you love it, Verge," Dante said it loud enough for just about everyone to hear. His hold got tighter and Vergil wasn't sure if he could move anymore. Dante planted a kiss square on Vergil's mouth. He let go of his twin, who was still frozen in place.

"Hurry up, bro," a cocky smirk played at his features, "You don't want to be late for first period." Dante glanced down at his phone and practically strutted down the halls. _And with less than a minute to spare... looks like I win this time Verge._

* * *

Maybe I should have had Dante shake his head like a wet dog. No Yaoi intended... but oh Well! Cheers or Jeers?


	7. Well Thought Out Twinkles

Thanks to all readers and everyone who took the time to add the story and drop a line: **DirtyVelvet**, **Shadow'sIllusionist**,  
**. Brown. eyes. and. bushy. tales**, **Shadow-of-a-Wolf**, **Satanic Park Of Madness**, and **Devil Rebel**.

Have you ever thought of why Dante's such a ham in DMC4? Well... here you go! Watch him show off that he's such a cheesy actor, even back in High school. Ha! Take that, Zac Efron!

_Come join in the last hurrah with open sores and open jaw  
Find one last flaw and keep it safe and free from harm  
What have you done it's too early for everyone  
So smile go inside come to see there is no sign_

— Silversun Pickups

* * *

Chapter 7: "Well Thought out Twinkles"

The bell rang throughout the empty halls, signaling to the students that it was now time to switch into their second period classes. "Now, remember to review chapters four, five, and six tonight," the English teacher shouted over the chattering of the students readying to leave the room, "There _will _be a test next class!"

"Verge," Dante poked his twin as he tossed his literature book into his back pack, "loan me a pen." Vergil produced a black gel pen, handing it just over his shoulder. Yet another pen that he didn't expect to get back. He would venture to ask why he was never prepared for school or what he had been doing for the past hour without a pen. Vergil kept his comments to himself, deciding that the issue was moot point, like asking why his hair color is white.

"Later," he announced to Dante as he slung his bag over his shoulder and left for his AP Physics class. Dante gave a two-fingered salute as his twin stepped into the hall. Cassandra was the next to leave, followed by Tanya who very nearly made it past the threshold. Dante grabbed her by the hand and slipped his other hand onto her bare midriff as he pulled her closer.

"Dante," she giggled as he nipped at her neck with the smoothness of a vampire attracting his prey. "Are you trying to get me into trouble?"

"Maybe," he cooed seductively into her ear.

"All over-sexed teenagers should get a room," The English teacher yelled loudly, effectively killing the mood. Tanya peeled herself away from Dante. She blew him a kiss before stepping into the hall, swaying her hips.

"Don't you have a class to get to Casanova," the English teacher asked, standing just over his shoulder. Dante only looked at him with a very annoyed look on his face.

He brushed off the teacher's comment and headed to his next class, art. Dante sidled past the door hoping not to get noticed by the teacher. He tip-toed to his seat, much like Scooby-Doo or the Pink Panther would. No student had noticed the added presence, so far so good.

"Late again, Mr. Sparda?" A laid back voice questioned from the front of the small art studio. She stepped forward revealing her position. Her vibrantly printed hemp shirt had seamlessly blended into the abstract painting behind her.

"Damn," he whispered to himself.

The upright desks, slightly shorter than an architect's desk were situated in three rows of semi-circles around a centered stage of metal risers and shag carpeting. The eastern wall was lined in full-length windows with sinks and counter tops along most of the south wall. The rest of the students, already in their seats giggled at the comment that came from the teacher simply known to the students as the Ganja Queen.

She was a child of the '60s, born and raised in California, near Berkley. Her 'flower child' parents had taught her to embrace the hippy lifestyle. And boy, did she. Ganja was a walking piece of history, right down to her vintage hip-hugger jeans and brown suede tied belt, to her yellow sunglasses and the way she managed to get her auburn hair up into a 'fro.

The Queen was always calm, never bothering to raise her voice, even in a heated argument. She was cool and laid back and a hit with students and other faculty members alike. Not many actually knew that she grew her own variety of the green monster in her garden, located in a patch between her roses and sunflowers. She fervently believed in legalizing marijuana, citing the medicinal properties in THC and that fewer wars would be started if world leaders would just inhale a little bit of the purple haze.

"Your being tardy today has volunteered you to be a part of our still life and impressionism studies today," she said, "Take your place Dante." He groaned inwardly just before stepping onto center stage. His classmates finished up their last sketches and flipped the pages of their over-sized drawing pads in near unison. The Queen set a stool near the corner of the stage and handed Dante a shiny green apple, fresh from the cafeteria. He wondered if it was even edible. "Pose for us Dante," she said as she made her way to lean on the back counter.

The teen obeyed, turning his head towards the windows, holding the hand with the apple up at about mid-chest, while he brought the other up the his chin, as if he were in deep contemplation of the existence of the apple. "Great job Dante. Class, remember your light sources." The class quietly sketched on their Strathmore pads.

After a minute of standing in his statuesque pose, boredom set in and he Dante said, "To eat or not to eat... that is the question." There were slight giggles from his audience. He continued, "Whether 'tis edible and ye core not rotten. To swallow and lay in the acidic bellies of men. Suffer ye sweet fruit to dance on mine tongue. An—"

"Thank you Mr. Sparda," the Queen cut across him, "As much as we'd like to hear your rendition of _Hamlet_, we have much work to be done."

Out the corner of his eyes, he noticed a group of girls giggling madly. _Huh? It wasn't that funny,_ he thought to himself. He listened in on their quiet whispers. They were pointing out to each other his shirt was still slightly damp and clinging well-defined abs.

"Change position," Ganja announced to the half-devil. Dante brought the stool that Ganja had left for him, closer, doing the 'Captain Morgan' pose, looking off towards the door, where he spotted Cassandra and Tanya sneaking in from their History class across the hall. "The hall-walkers from History may stay," Ganja's voice like dreamy poetry came seemingly nowhere and knowing why they made an appearance in her class, "but they mustn't disturb the model or else they must return from whence they came. "New position, Dante."

He took a hand and racked back his wet hair away from his ice-blue eyes. The front was slicked back, save for some strands, while the ends were spiked. He allowed his semi-permanent jovial expression to morph into a scowl. He pointed at a random kid in the classroom, giving him a cold stared that would have frozen him into a block of ice. He then said, perfectly enunciating each word, "You are a fool. Busy doodling your life away, when you could be studying something meaningful." There were chuckles and applause coming from everyone, but the frightened boy. It was a dead-on impression of his brother and everyone knew it. Even Ganja was enjoying herself. "You there," he raised his voice and pointed at a girl this time, "What's so funny? Do I amuse you?" His voice got dark and soto at the latter.

Dante cracked a smile and lost his façade. "I'm sorry," he laughed, "I can't stay that serious for long." The dismissal bell rang again and the students stood and packed up their drawing pads.

"Excellent job, class. Give a round of applause to our lovely specimen today." The students did so as they continued chuckling at his earlier antics. "No homework tonight and we'll meet again next week." Cassandra and Tanya had already snuck back into their class before the bell sounded for first lunch. Dante packed up his things and descended the stairs leading into the science hallway, to meet up with Vergil. He paused as he watched his twin wander aimlessly from the Physics lab mumbling something to himself. Vergil shuffled past Dante, noticing the other's presence.

The only audible thing Dante picked up were some complex equations. "Verge?" He kept mumbling to himself and walking like a dazed zombie.

"Verge," Dante called out a little louder.

"VERGIL!" Dante jogged down the hall to catch up with him.

"Vergil, what's up?" He turned his head slowly to look at Dante as if hadn't realized that he was there the entire time. His movements were so robotic. Vergil's lips continued to move like a talking wind-up doll with an intermittent voice box.

"...but then factoring in inertia, it's as simple as Newton's Second Law," was the tail end Dante managed to catch.

"Earth to Vergil," Dante stopped Vergil from his meandering, "Come in Vergil."

"I knew, I knew it, why didn't I know it then? ... Why didn't I manipulate the equation?" His madman-like ranting became a series of rueful chuckles.

"Ya lost me, Verge... Are you okay?"

"NO... Dante. I failed!" There was a creepy grin on his face that portrayed no happiness.

_Fail? _It was startling notion that Vergil _could_actually fail at something. For as long as Dante could remember, Vergil excelled... at EVERYTHING. Not only could he read and UNDERSTAND complex literature, Vergil was also able to do sports with the best of them. He was even a better at sparring. It took Azrael, an archangel, a little longer to knock Vergil down. It pissed Dante off that the angel finished him off quicker and with a blindfold. Vergil was well-read and had the makings of a star athlete. He was so much of a goddamned perfectionist that failure was NEVER an option.

Shock rushed into Dante's mind at what Vergil said to him and he worn it plainly on his face. He however, did recover from his momentary balk, hoping that Vergil had never noticed. "Pfft... Fail... Did the teacher grade the test yet," he asked coolly, trying to help Vergil dismiss his worry.

"No."

"Then why do you have your panties in a bunch?"

"Because, I just know!" Vergil snapped, which frankly caught Dante off guard.

"Verge, you're overreacting," Dante tried to calm his twin, "The course is weighted and doesn't Dr. Rush grades on a curve anyways?"

"Don't you get it, Dante," Vergil shook him violently, back and forth and side to side like a rag doll, "I AM THE CURVE!" Vergil realized his outburst and dropped his arms, staunching his current need to strangle Dante to death. He slumped his shoulders with a heavy sigh as he sulked off to the cafeteria. Dante gave him his space, even when they happened to be at the same table. He sat across some seats down from his twin enjoying the food that was on today's menu, pizza.

"What's up with him," Cassandra asked taking a seat closer to Vergil. He glanced over to his blue clad twin to see that his head was lying on the lunch table. He could practically see the storm cloud brewing over his head. He didn't say a word. She tried to comfort him by rubbing his back.

"I wouldn't if I were you." She snatched her hand back, "You're liable to pull back a nub."

"What happened?"

"Nothing," he sighed dramatically just before biting into his pizza, "He's a little depressed because he _thinks_ he got a bad grade on a test."

"Ouch," she said sympathetic that he may have vying for the spot as class Valedictorian, "For what subject?"

"AP Physics."

"Ah," came her simple, but understanding response. Then came a short pause before saying, "Wait... For Dr. Rush? Isn't his grading curved? Pfft!" The latter being no-so concerned.

"That's what I said! At any rate, he's going to be pretty mopey for a while and I think I found something to get his mind off of it."

Seconds later, a teenager dressed in blue cargo shorts and a black shirt sat right across from Dante. "Uh-oh... Dante has a plan," he said, "everyone run for the hills!"

"No one asked you and what are you doing here," he growled.

"What's it look like I'm doing," the boy replied in a smart aleck tone from under his shaggy brown hair. He casually raised a slice of pizza ready to chomp into it. His teeth came down and his tongue only tasted air. He looked up at Dante to see that he was stuffing _his_ slice into his mouth. "Wha—? How did you—?"

"Ancient Chinese secret, bitch," Dante remarked, "If you want to sit at the big kid's table, Leon, you gotta pay your dues like every other freshman."

The boy frowned, "Look, Dante, just because you're my cousin doesn't give you the right to treat me like... crap!"

Dante detected the pause as Leon spoke. "Com'on you can say it," he leaned forward teasing Leon, "You know you wanna." For years, Dante taunted that Leon would never say a foul word, even if provoked. "Com'on Eagle Scout," he poked more, "Come on!"

"Not today, Dante," he said sipping on his school-provided skim milk, "I'm not giving in. You won't get me riled up that easily."

"We'll see Leon, we'll see." Dante lowered himself into his seat. His attention turned back to Cassandra as he began again, "So as I was saying, the plan— V over there will be right as rain in no time—"

Her face contorted into worry at the mere mention of the word, 'plan.' She cut across him asking, "What do you have in mind?"

"For me to know and you to find out," he said slyly as he cocked his eyebrows. For add measure, he tapped the tip of her nose like the guy from _Superbad._ "Besides," he continued, "he's pretty much useless and all around no fun when he's like this."

Two more freshmen sat at the table, a dark haired boy and other with red hair. They slapped hands with Leon. "Hey, Forest, Chris," Leon said.

"DAMMIT, Leon, what did I tell you about attracting freshies?!" Before could rant anymore his phone's ring tone went off. /_Re. Spect. Walk. What did you say?!_/

"Yo." Dante smiled recognizing the voice on the other end. "¿Qué tal? Más ó menos... ¿Verdad? Bueno, bueno."

"I wish I knew Spanish," Leon said trying to eavesdrop.

Cassandra brushed against his hand, looking into his future and said, "You will... with great fluency and more than you'll really bargain for."

The red head, Forest, accidentally swept his arm across her back and she said as sweetly as she could, "Forest... honey?"

"Yeah," he questioned.

"Good Luck in Raccoon City, hon. You're gonna need it."

"Huh? Wha—?"

Cassandra got up to dump her tray and came back. She then patted Chris on the back before saying, "Stay away from Africa... You'll thank me later."

Meanwhile, Dante was still on the phone. "Sí. ¿Veinte minutos? Sí. Gracias, Diego... Hasta Pronto." With that he ended his call and walked over to Vergil. "Verge... gimmie the car keys." Without a word and without picking up his head, Vergil abdicated his keys in robotic-like movements. Weird.

"Thanks, Bro... I swing by later to pick you up." Dante dumped his tray and took off, never to be seen again at school... well at least for the rest of the day. Tanya walked into the cafeteria and greeted the crew before pulling her buddy away. Cassi left with Tanya, but not before shouting back to the freshmen, "Stay away from crows, Forest."

Some twenty minutes later, as promised, Dante parked his Black Maxima next to a Honda Civic of the same color in an empty parking lot. The rain was coming down in full-force earlier, but it now calmed into light drizzles. Both drivers climbed out their cars and popped their trunks as if this were a routine exchange. They both pulled each other into a 'man-hug,' with their clasped hands separating their bodies and a couple quick pats on the back.

Diego was a tall well-dressed Latino man. He wore dark slacks with a green dress shirt. He had his dark hair slicked back. Diego's fashion sense reminded Dante of Vergil.

"¿Que pasa, homes?" The dark haired man greeted Dante. And the half-devil greeted back in kind.

Dante glanced into the man's trunk and back to the man, "Diego... this is some sweet stuff here, dude." He shuffled through the items, "Quick loaders, masks... Aww you, shouldn't have. What's the hit on this?"

"Uh... like 300-350 fps."

"Really," Dante said, "Awesome. I'll take them. Let's get these transferred." The two began shifting the 'goods' into Dante's trunk. He then continued as they finished up, "How much do I owe you for these?"

"Nada, it's all good Dante," Diego answered. Playing nice with others had its advantages.

"Sweet," Dante replied, "Gracias y hasta luego."

"De nada. What's the rush, homes?"

"Vergil," Dante said simply.

"Ah. Adiós amigo." Diego nodded in understanding and let him go.

Diego closed his trunk and got back into his car. Dante followed suit and both pulled off into opposite directions.

* * *

Mira... I tried going all Iambic Pentameter...but... eh... I gave up. I guess I don't measure up to 'ol Willie.

Is Dante into illegal activities? And why would I pull Resident Evil characters? Find out this and more in Chapter 8: "This Ain't a Scene..." and Don't Forget To Review!


	8. This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race

Thanks to all readers and everyone who took the time to add the story and leave some love: **Shadow'sIllusionist**,** DirtyVelvet**, **Ranchdressing**, **MazdaKitsune**, **Shadow-of-a-Wolf**, **Satanic Park Of Madness**, **Grimmjow J. the 6th****Espada**, and **Mariposa-Princessa**.

_I am an arms dealer  
Fitting you with weapons in the form of words  
And don't really care which side wins  
As long as the room keeps singing  
That's just the business I'm in, yeah_

_This ain't a scene, it's a goddamned arms race..._

_I'm not a shoulder to cry on  
But I digress_

_I'm a leading man  
And the lies I weave are oh so intricate,  
Oh so intricate..._

— Fall Out Boy

* * *

Chapter 8: "This Ain't a Scene it's an Arms Race!"

"Wait... Dante that all seems a little shady to me," Lady said looking at the platinum haired devil hunter.

"You don't know the half of it," Vergil quietly scoffed as he turned a cup of tea to his lips.

"That just proves that your brother loves you enough to do something illegal... and potentially dangerous," Trish commented.

"Look," Dante retorted, "No one's safety was compromised and it _was_ for the most part legal." He sounded a bit unsure. The other hunters in the room gave him incredulous looks. "Just let me continue," Dante nearly whined.

----

Later that night, after his meeting with Diego, Dante returned home and began going through his 'goodie-bag,' carefully laying out each individual piece on his bed. There were two quick knocks on the door before it creaked opened. Vergil darkened the doorway with his emo-ness and said quietly, "Dinner's ready." Vergil glanced from the Dante to the bed and back again to his twin and then remark, "I don't even want to know. Whatever it is you are planning, I think its best that you hide it before Miz Liz makes an appearance."

Dante nodded in agreement. Having finished looking through his stuff, Dante put them back into the bag and followed Vergil down to the kitchen. Both sat down to a plate full of food, but they hardly touched it. Not only that, dinner-time was quiet. _Too_ quiet. A normal dinner would be somewhere between Dante making up tall-tales about how his day went or the two getting into a shouting match over an issue that should have been settled days ago.

"Vergil? Dante?" Miz Liz quickly looked from one twin to the other. "Now, I know that Vergil doesn't eat much, but you too, Dante? What's going on?"

"I'm just not that hungry," Dante replied pushing around the same piece of meat loaf for the fortieth time.

She placed a hand to his forehead questioning, "Are you sick?"

"No, I'm fine."

She lowered her eyebrows and voice, "Are you high?" She began check to his pupils to see if they were dilated.

"Wha—? No!" Dante nearly sputtered as his eyes shifted back and forth.

"May I be excused," Vergil asked quietly, not making any eye contact.

"Sure, hon," Liz said watching Vergil skulk away with low shoulders. As soon as he left the room, she directed another question to Dante, "What's wrong with him? Did ya'll get into it at school again?"

"No. He's been depressed all day."

Liz stood, began clearing the plates and then said, "Maybe you should go and check on your brother. Something about that isn't sitting right with me."

Dante did as he was told and went up to Vergil's room to find that his brother was lying across in his bed in the darkened room. He made no attempt to pester his twin, only went off to his room even more resolved to go through with his plan. He pulled out the black duffel bag and peered inside again, coming to the realization that the plan will have to occur _tomorrow_.

---

The next day at school, Dante made an appearance at school with a portfolio tube strapped to his back. Although he could hardly contain himself, Dante waited until the fourth period substitute teacher for the computer science lab was called away to the main office. He swept away a few monitors, clearing some space in front of Vergil.

"GENTLEMEN," Dante announced very loudly in a very Dr. Weird-like way, "BEHOLD!" At that moment he had pulled out a rolled up length of paper and spread it out on the empty space in front of Vergil in one fluid motion.

"Uh oh! That spells trouble," Leon said glancing at the paper his cousin had displayed.

"Shaddup," Dante retorted to the brown-haired freshman, "Who skips their own classes for a computer class, anyways?" Leon got quiet.

Vergil eyed it and said, "What the hell is this?"

"Schematics... duh," his twin casually replied.

"Yes, well, I can see that. But the question is _why_ do you have them?"

Vergil had known his twin long enough to recognize that Dante's brain does not operate like his or any other normal person for that matter. Knowing Dante, the possibilities were endless. He could have leased office and have dozens of peons tirelessly working under him; there were guesses as to what they could be doing. Another thought is that Dante had the place wired with explosives and planning some type of demolition for his own personal enjoyment. Vergil could a picture the latter happening. He tried to factor in the contents of Dante's duffel bag. _What could he be thinking?_ This was getting to be something far more elaborate than anything he would have given Dante credit for dreaming up on his own.

"Oh, you'll see... you'll see," Dante responded with a sly smirk, "Just make sure you bring four other people. Meet at this address after school." Dante proceeded to scrawl it down on a sheet of notebook and tuck it into his brother's hand.

"And how do you propose that I get there, Dante?" The question was answered once Dante tossed Vergil the car keys.

"Adios," Dante gave a two fingered salute before grasping Tanya and walking out of the classroom. Once out into the hallway, Dante pulled Tanya in for a kiss and her body stiffened in response.

"Dante," she said poking him in the chest, "If you think that I'm one of those _easy_ girls that sway to your every beck and whim, you got another thing coming!"

She slipped from his grip as he pondered his statement. Maybe that's what drew him to her in the first place. She was strong and independent, unlike a lot of the girls who tried oh so very hard to get into his pants. Then again, maybe it is because he is somewhat of a masochist. I mean, really, think about his future choices in women... (Eric looks up from his computer to see the murderous glares of Lady and Trish. "Okay, I'll be good," he screams in fear for his pathetic life.)

"Tease," Dante purred at her.

---

As promised, Vergil drove to address with four others in tow. In the front passenger seat was Cassandra with the three future residents of Raccoon City in the backseat. They probably weren't the group Dante had envisioned, but they'd have to do. They arrived at a dilapidated building. Judging by the looks of it, Vergil speculated that it was either a small office building or school from the 1950s. Either way, it appeared that stiff breeze would knock the old, abandoned place down.

Vergil and his passengers piled out of the champagne colored Mazda and stretched their legs. He spied a blue SUV tearing down a gravel path out of the corner of his eyes. It came to a halted in front of his own car. The occupants hopped out. First Dante came from one of the backseats. He then walked around to help Tanya down from her perch on the front passenger seat. Then Diego and two other men that Vergil didn't know exited the vehicle.

"Diego," Vergil greeted not-so-cordially.

"Vergil," Diego nodded.

Vergil remembered Diego and he remembered him well. He mostly recognized the man for aiding and abetting Dante's more stupider schemes. But then again, there was that one time Dante had told Diego that his twin needed to take a load off for their seventeenth birthdays. It was a long sad story of how there was a bottle of Everclear, a night of clubbing and dancing and a drunken Vergil left stranded in nothing but his blue boxers in a Mexican desert.

"Great," Dante cut in with a smile, trying to head off any hostilities, "You all made it! Let's cut to the chase." He pulled out the schematics ad spread them out over the hood of the Mazda. "Gather 'round. Welcome to ye old Fordham Elementary School."

"School? So you bring us from one school to another? What gives, Dante," Leon sardonically questioned.

"For one... you're about to get schooled!"

"What's that supposed to mean," the teen shouted back at his older cousin.

"You'll see," Dante sang.

Cassandra's face displayed some worry. "Hey. What's the matter, chica," Diego asked.

"This place is creepy. Why are we here," she was positively shaking.

"Está bien. I'll protect you," Diego turned on his Latin charm, earning a slight growl from Vergil.

He then glanced back at the old brick structure behind him and then continued, "This place is solid! Diego and I personally checked it out this morning. They don't make 'em like this any more. Now, as I was saying... We are going to play a little game today. Diego can explain the particulars to you."

"Right," Diego said pulling out two large duffel bags from his truck while Dante produced a third, "Today we are going to play Capture the Flag, but with a twist. As you may or may not know, Fordham Elementary was the scene of a brutal double murder on Halloween in the '60s. In each decade the building was converted into something new, an office park, a small medical center, until it was finally boarded up ten years ago. But each time there was a new murder that prompted changes to the building to push the crimes out of the public's mind. Tonight, your objective is to snatch a body from the opposing team." Diego unzipped a bag, produced a neon-painted skeleton and tossed it at Dante.

He caught it and continued, "This is a plastic skeleton that can be purchased from any shop that sells Halloween items. This is your flag. Get it to back to your base and earn a point. First team to five points wins. If you happen to get hit while hold onto the opposing 'flag,' you must drop it where you stand and immediately return to your base. Any other hits will get you sent back to your base." One of the guys that had rode in with Diego and Dante stepped forward. Right about now, Vergil, Cassandra, and the freshmen were just now noticing that he was a blue one-piece, zip-up jumpsuit. Dante continued, "Cortez here, is wearing what you are all gonna put on. Also you are each going to get a force rated mask." He held one up. It looked like an open aired dirt biker's mask. "The suit isn't the prettiest thing but it will keep your clothes clean and help keep hits from hurting so much. You will also get a paintball gun with the markers matching you team's color either blue or red. The captains of the teams will get a paintball pistol with speed loaders that holds up to ten rounds... a side arm if you will. Any questions?"

Leon raised his hand, trying to be funny. Dante promptly picked up a paintball gun and shot him in the shoulder. The teen then fell over yelling in pain. "Any _other_ questions," Dante said looking out over the rest of the players. Everyone was quiet. "Good! Everyone, come over here to grab a flash light and some glow sticks. Also keep in mind; you can reload for up to five jugs at your own base. The whole interior is fair play, but the bases are on the second floor. The inside is dark but José and Cortez did a great job painting the area with glow-in-the-dark paint on such short notice and the masks you all will get glow also. So let's get the teams set up."

Diego joked, "I think Dante and Vergil should be captains, because, right about now Verge looks like he'd like nothing better than to nail Dante in he face!"

"Agreed," Vergil returned, "so we will choose the teams like captains traditionally do?"

"Fine," Dante said, "Then I choose Tanya."

Tanya stepped over to where he was standing, picked up her gear and put on her blue jumpsuit. "Yeah, you had better pick me first," she playfully punched him in the arm.

"Cassandra," Vergil said.

"Diego," Dante returned, picking up the advantage from having someone that knows the building.

"José," Vergil recognized the same advantage.

"Cortez," Dante greedily snatched up the advantage.

(Eric looks up from his computer to see Lady staring him down. "What the hell's up with you taking advantage of the word, 'advantage'?!"

Eric answers, "I dunno. I like it. It rolls off the tongue. Say it with me Lady. Ad-Van-Taggge!"

She shakes her head, "I swear, you're worse than Dante! Your jokes get shoddier with each chapter and I thought that day would _never_ come." Eric pouts.)

"Dante," Vergil spoke up, "That's cheating."

"How do you figure?"

"None of us, other than José have been here prior to today. You have three people that know the area."

"Uh, well," Dante shifted his eyes back and forth, sensing that his plan was going up in smoke, "you can keep the map." The fastest idea Dante could come up without giving up his home field ad– (Trish says putting an electrified gun to Eric's head, "Don't you dare say it!") –lead.

"Fine," Vergil brought up a placating hand up to his brother, "At any rate, it won't stop us from kicking your ass. I pick Leon." He knew that while his younger cousin was quite cocky, he was also handy with a gun for some odd reason.

_Damn_, Dante thought, realizing that Vergil made a great choice. His crystalline blue eyes moved from Chris to Forrest and back again. "Hmm... who sucks less?" He eyed them once more. "Well, Chris knows Leon and Forrest is a ginger," Dante weighed, "Ummmmmmm..... Uhhhhhhhhhh....... Hmmmmmmm."

"Dante," Vergil yelled, "Pick one, DAMMIT!"

"Chris." Dante sounded almost defeated.

"I guess that leaves me with Forrest," Vergil said, then turned his attention to his team, "Let's strategize."

"Game starts in five minutes and—" Dante cut himself off when he spotted Leon trying to raise a hand. He took aim at the teen, who quickly covered himself up.

"No! I have a _real_ question," he pleaded, "How do we tell you from Vergil? I mean, like you said, its dark in there."

Dante who was already dressed in his jumpsuit, unzipped it halfway and tied the sleeves around his waist, showing that the only thing that could remotely protect his torso from the welts and bruises that were sure result from the game, was an under tee-shirt. "Happy now?" Out of the corner of his eye he caught Leon eye him the wrong way. The freshman was rewarded with another paintball to the same sore shoulder.

Diego glanced down at his watch and said, "Let's move out."

----

The teams had been hold up at their bases for the past five minutes. Dante's team in the west end with Vergil's in the east. The spiky-haired twin stood on the edge of his base with his arms crossed, eyes closed, and listening just past the darkness.

"Hey, Vergil..." Leon started. Vergil raised an eyebrow in response to show that had indeed heard his younger cousin. Leon continued, "When do we move out?" The boy had been itching to pay Dante back for his sore shoulder.

"We wait," Vergil said without opening an eye, "It is best not to rush in foolhardy. That is no doubt the tactic Dante is currently mounting. I predict that he will have his team launch an ambush in a balls-out attempt to capture our flag. But he will leave his base unguarded and PRIMED FOR ATTACK!" Vergil's eyes shot open, burning with a passion Leon had never seen the likes of. There was no doubt that his cousin was channeling the spirit of General Patton. It makes you wonder what Dante had done to incur Vergil's wrath. No, not only that, but how long had it been brewing under his placid exterior.

"A-a-and how do you know this," Leon was almost too afraid to ask after Vergil's sudden outburst.

"Teneo tui hostilis. Know thy enemy, Leon," Vergil grinned with a slyness matching Dante's, perhaps exceeding it three-fold. Vergil pulled his mask down and said, "Follow me." They went to the far end of the base where the rest of his team had been chilling.

"So what's up," Cassandra asked.

"A new strategy," Vergil spoke evenly in his trademark icy tones.

"Which are," Cassandra returned.

Vergil pulled out the floor plans that Dante had allowed him to have and picked up a small handful of paintballs. He then crushed them in one hand. The neon, blue paint dripped in between his fingers and onto the floor. He spread the map on the floor with the other hand and crouched down next to it. He then pointed to each team member and told them which symbols and trails he gave them. "The defenders are Cassandra and Forrest. Cassandra is the 'O' and Forrest is the 'X'." He marked them at the base. "You are our last line of defense. Your jobs are to guard the base, while making it look empty."

"How do we do that," Forrest asked, beating Cassandra to the punch.

"There are three entryways to the base and most of them are covered by angled walls," Vergil marked them off as he spoke, "Stay within these angled walls and you should able to stay hidden while being able to keep an eye out, should the red team get past us. There are holes in these walls; take them out from there." Vergil continued assigning his tasks, "Leon you are the dashes. You will take the southern stairs down to the first floor and come up from underneath the red base. Be on your guard." Vergil marked his cousin's path with broken lines. "José, you are the dots. Stay on the second floor and take the northern most trail to the red end, take out any and all obstacles. ¿Comprende?"

"Sí, comprendo, holmes," José answered.

"Muy bien," Vergil said as he drew out a dotted path for him.

"What about you," Leon asked.

"Me? Well, I'm the bait. I'll keep to the shadows, find, and draw out Dante. Is everyone clear on what they need to do?"

"Yes," the team answered in near unison.

"Good... Get going!" Everyone picked up their paintball markers, left and got into position, leaving Vergil standing by himself. He stood up with the map in hand. He crumpled it up and tucked it into his jumpsuit, leaving behind no evidence of his game plan. "It begins," he muttered to himself.

----

Dante stood alone at his base. His team was making its stealthy advance to the blue side and he awaited a showdown with his twin. He walked a few yards away from his base into a shadowy section. His snapped his head around when he heard a loose floorboard creak. He began circumspecting the area. An after image passed by his field of vision and then another groan from the old floorboards. "Tanya? You there?"

There were no answer only slow deliberate footsteps. The footsteps suddenly changed location, as if was coming from the north rather that the east as before. Dante whipped his head around and it changed again, coming from the south. He took a deep breath and let out slowly and rather shakily. "Verge, aren't we a bit old for this?" Dante hated it that Vergil was always able to sneak up on him. Not to mention, it was quite creepy and it frightened Dante to some degree... Not that he'd ever admit that. Dante listened carefully where Vergil may strike from. All he heard was his twin's low chuckles echoing through the halls.

Soon it had gotten louder, closer and became full blown laughs. Dante spun around frantically looking for Vergil. "Oh, little brother," a low voice came from just over his shoulder said, "you must _never_ leave your back open." Dante whirled to see his mirror image standing before him. Vergil was standing in the same position as he, with his jumpsuit sleeves tied around his waist in the same fashion.

Dante reached his left hand up the pull up his mask and Vergil mimicked his motions. Scary how Vergil could mirror him to a 'T'. Tanya came up a stairway and rounded a corner and began, "So far it appears to be clear, Da—" She cut herself off, when she saw the twins standing in front of her. She brought her gun and flashlight up and shined it in their eyes. They each brought up a hand to shield their sensitive eyes from the harsh light. She pointed her gun from one to the other, unsure which one was Dante.

"Great, Tanya you're here," Vergil did his best imitation of Dante, "Take out Vergil before he gets the flag."

"Yeah right, Verge, how clichéd can you get," Dante retorted.

"Oh, no Verge, you're not pinning this one on me," Vergil thumbed himself in the chest.

Tanya looked so confused, watching what seemed to be Dante arguing with himself.

"Tanya, listen to me! Shoot him," the two said in perfect harmony as they pointed at each other. She wasn't sure who to hit. If she accidentally shot Dante, that would set Vergil up to score a hit on her and take the flag for the point. Helpless. She weighed her future actions in her head... that is until she felt the barrel of a paintball gun pressed to her back.

"Ahem," Leon cleared his throat. She turned to see that they were practically surrounded. Leon was right behind her and José was coming up behind Dante and Vergil. Leon backed up firing a round into the fleshier part of her body for minimal stinging. "Eek," she squealed.

José looked down and spotted the blue paint all over Vergil's hand. He then quietly pointed out the _real_ Dante to Leon, who then unloaded all of his paintball rounds into Dante's barely shielded torso. As the paint pelted his body, like a bloody shootout, Dante let out some very staccato screams. (Cue the music... :_Mmm, what you say? Mm, that you only meant well?_: ... Ok, ok I was kidding! ) He withstood the attack, but soon the stinging sensation washed over his body. He dropped to the dusty floor, rolling and howling in pain.

"Well, now," Leon mocked, "That's gonna leave a mark."

Vergil untied his sleeves and inserted his arms as José and Leon grabbed the neon red skeleton and skulked off to their base. Before Vergil put his mask back on, he nudged Dante in the side with his boot and said, "Get up. You're not going to call it quits, are you?" When Tanya turned away, rubbing her backside, Vergil teleported away. "The fun has just begun," they heard his seemingly disembodied voice echo.

Mission accomplished. Blue... gained the lead.

* * *

Three truths to know about Eric:

1. Eric is Crazy. Eric equals crack.

2. Eric watches way too much Aqua Teen Hunger Force, South Park, Robot Chicken, AMVs, and mafia movies... and if you can spot my knowing nods, you'll win a cookie.

3. Eric needs reviews.

I hope you enjoyed and as always, constructive criticisms are welcomed. Watch out for Chapter 9: "In the Shadows"!


	9. In The Shadows

Okay, so I did something really stupid in the last chapter and it shall never happen again (what was I on?). I am just now realized that I have not updated this in about six months. WOW. Bet you thought I left it chained to a radiator of something. =P Nope, not the case.

Anyways, I'd like to thank those who have bothered to read or add and a special shout goes to those who have reviewed: **Shadow'sIllusionist**,**DirtyVelvet**, **Ranchdressing**, **Shadow-of-a-Wolf**, **Satanic Park Of Madness**, **Grimmjow J. the 6th Espada**, **Mariposa-Princessa**, and **Ulquiorra. **You all are awesome!

About the song: I guess it stands out to me cuz it has a pop beat almost boy-bandish and the band looks like a bunch of goth rockers.

_No sleep  
No sleep until I am done with finding the answer  
Won't stop  
Won't stop before I find a cure for this cancer..._

_I've been watching  
I've been waiting  
In the shadows for my time  
I've been searching  
I've been living  
For tomorrows all my life...  
In the shadows..._

—The Rasmus

* * *

Chapter 9: "In the Shadows"

Dante stood from his desk chair and cracked his stiff back. "Is that it," Lady questioned expectantly.

"Nope," he said, stretching away the soreness that came from sitting in the same position for a long period of time, "All this storytelling has left me parched." He casually walked into the kitchen and returned with a six-pack of Coronas. If Dante was ever given free reign of grocery shopping, the refrigerator would only be stocked with beer, pizza, and strawberry ice cream. It was a good thing that the women of the company took care of the shopping, lest they all die of scurvy.

Dante fished a bottle opener from his desk drawer and popped open a bottle. Vergil reached for one until Dante smacked his hand away, "Hey, get your own!" A knowing smirk crept across the blue clad twin's face. It took Dante a moment to realize it, maybe a moment longer than he would have liked. He whipped his head towards the three women who had already opened three of his beers. Dante then snapped is attention back to his brother, who had one of his own and opening it with a spectral bottle opener, that he had created. Vergil had been playing interference and most of all was diversion for his female colleagues. Dante was sometimes just a little too slow.

Vergil took a swig from the bottle with a crooked smile plastered on his face. Dante's cerulean eyes went to the remaining bottles of the amber liquid, one that had opened and the other yet to be touched. All the platinum haired hunter could do was stare at his twin in disbelief for 'doing him dirty'.

"Dante, aren't you going to continue the story," Vergil said with his voice dripping in mock sincerity.

Dante eyed the women and then his twin again. He drew up a little of his old cocky attitude but then began sulking like a surly teenager. "Fine," Dante whined, "I never liked Corona anyways."

"Stop crying like a baby," Trish cut in, "and get on with it."

Dante sighed, took a sip of the bitter beverage, and continued from where he left off, "Fine… So Verge scored the first point—"

"Sounds like Vergil did a little more than that," Lady quipped.

"Look… Do you want to hear it or not? Vergil did gain the upper hand, but some things did unexpectedly happen during our little tournament." Dante looked thoroughly peeved, as Vergil seemed pleased with himself and even more so, that Dante would have to admit to some embarassment.

------

The battered and bruised Dante drew himself to his feet and bent down the help up the little less achy Tanya. Even the small act sent fresh waves of pain radiating from his torso. Dante was sure that he would feel the bruises that would surely show up in the morning.

He had thought that the game would sway to his favor. At least that was how he thought he manipulated it. If not for the teams, he believed that his 'guaranteed' victory would come down to Vergil himself.

Yes, Vergil would decide it all. Even as children, Vergil shied away from the water pistols Dante often played with, but instead, opting for and perfectly content with having pretend sword fights with whatever stray tree branches he could find. From an early age, Vergil did not believe that honor could be found at the barrel of a gun. 'The Great Equalizer,' as many men have called it, required, in Vergil's opinion, little or no skill to operate it. To Vergil, a blade had a mystique all of its own. On some level, Dante appreciated the artisanship that went into making of a sword and the skills required to use it. In spite of it all, this was yet another ideal that Dante believed Vergil would carry to his grave. Hell, when either Liz or Azrael took them to the gun range for practice, Vergil occupied his time with classical literature.

Dante planned the day to give Vergil at least some boost in his mood. Nevertheless, Dante always did have an ulterior motive under his altruistic façade. Never did he ever think that his strategy would be upset so early in the game and never did he bank on Vergil being a formidable opponent. Then again, they were twins and Dante was not one to just roll over and die either.

As they processed what happened, the pair rested at the red base hoping that the rest of the team was faring much better. Dante swore that Vergil would pay.

----

Diego, Chris, and Cortez rushed forth taking separate paths along the first floor of the abandoned schoolhouse with the precision and stealth of black-ops soldiers. If they all had not just met mere hours ago, one would think that this was a well-rehearsed operation. Diego took his advance to the northern stairwell, closest to the fifth grade classroom. Cortez sped upstairs from the south, near kindergarten classrooms and Chris quietly made his way from the west. The trio converged on the central path towards the blue base with Diego flanked by Chris and Cortez.

Cortez gave a short hand signal and the other two quietly crept forward. Each of them carefully checked a darkened corner, wary of an ambush. They met in the center aisle, weaving past walls overwrought by termite damage and age. The pseudo-soldiers stepped into a 'V' formation and made their way into the blue base. Strangely enough, they traipsed far into enemy territory unopposed. It was as if the blues had all abandoned the place. None of the boys had encountered a single soul since Dante told them to go in for the all out rush.

"This don't feel right, holmes," Diego carefully eyeballed another corner.

"Took the words right outta my mouth," Chris concurred. They heard a floorboard creak and trained their guns to the direction where it came.

"Grave mistake," they heard Vergil's haughty voice echo through the halls. By now, the boys had briefly glanced at each other before forming a triangle with their backs at each other.

"Smart move," the blue clad twin's disembodied voice commented on their quick thinking, "Shall I attribute this stratagem to you three or that of my brother?"

The trio did not answer, only walked in quiet circumspection. "No answer, huh? That is no matter; we shall still penetrate your defenses."

We, was the collective thought that entered the heads of the red fighters. As if on cue, a volley of blue paint shot at them. The red trio managed duck into cover without being hit. Their chests heaved with the sudden rush of adrenaline. As they got their bearings, the three realized that they were cornered.

Each fighter wedged themselves into separate burned-out abutments, with Cortez closer to the base; Chris staggered diagonally behind him, and Diego holding the rear.

The volley of paint continued to whiz overhead.

"Suggestions, Cortez" Chris called out the agitated question in a hushed tone.

"No problemo, hermano," Cortez returned as he fished a small mirror out of his pocket.

"Skee-skee," Cortez blew air over his tongue and teeth to catch Diego's attention. Once he looked up, Cortez nudged his head into the direction of the base.

Diego nodded in understanding before saying to Chris, "Watch our backs, so they don't fence us in."

Chris nodded and pointed his weapon past Diego. Cortez snaked his mirror around the corner, capturing a view of floating glow sticks. The outcropping in front of Cortez prevented him from squeezing off a clean shot and Diego could not see past his enclosure. If either so chose to peek and shove their faces into the open, they could expect an eye full of paint. Cortez strategized and thought of the next best thing, relay positioning to Diego.

Diego was a crack shot and even more so under Dante's tutelage. If Liz or Azrael were not available to take Dante to the range, he'd invite Diego to a game of laser tag or paintball. After all, it was there where he met his Latino friend. Cortez was once party to those games and saw Diego in action. It made some sense that given the right directions, he could make the necessary shots without the use of his sight.

Diego aimed his barrel around to offending pillar. The positioning was awkward, but he'd work past it.

Cortez kept one eye on Diego's gun and the other on where the mirror reflected. He triangulated the converse angles and whispered to his shooter, "Izquierda, parada, parada mas." Diego obeyed, pointing to the left and then up a few inches. "Now," Cortez said.

Diego squeezed off a short burst and stopped when heard male's voice shout with a resounding, "Ow."

Cortez's plan was working. It was a boost to the ego and the boys continued with renewed fervor. "Derecho… Ahora," Cortez called out more commands and Diego aimed to the right scoring another hit. Even Chris felt the pride as he guarded the rear of the line. Still, he felt utterly useless at his current position. Sure, he was keeping the prospect of an enemy ambush at bay, but Chris rationalized that there was more he could do. He'd double back and circle around to flank the blue troops. Gusty and it may even end in disappointment, but at least he would buy some leeway for his comrades. Maybe even, set them up for a point.

There was a reprieve in the blue's barrage, possibly them trying to reload all at once. Cortez still whispered enemy positions to Diego. Being the good shooter he was, Diego flexed his pained fingers and continued shooting from the odd angle his gun rested. Chris took the opening, following his original plan. He slinked backwards into the shadows, careful not to disturb the concentration of his teammates.

Chris shifted his weight to muffle the sounds of the rotted floorboards. Leon had once warned him that his cousins had extremely sensitive hearing and Chris was not one to push that theory, not here and definitely not now. He crossed around a column and dashed for cover. He waited a moment more stalking down a secondary hallway. Chris rounded a corner, almost home free to the blue base, an inch away from victory. He almost tasted the ecstasy from the certain win.

That is, until he reached the end of the hall. There he spied a figure, patiently waiting for him. Chris stopped dead in his tracks as the figure slowly approached him. As it walked, it seemed to glide closer. Small slits of light from a cracked piece of plywood nailed onto a broken window, splashed onto its features. It wasn't much but, the freshman could make out a few facial features. The ice-blue eyes, the lips twisted into a scowl, and silvery hair that was heavy with sweat but somehow remained mostly spiked.

"Dante," the boy questioned.

"No," came from the thin, pursed pair of lips, followed by the slight grinding of teeth at the blunder.

"Vergil?"

There was a short sadistic grin in response and then the lips returned to a stony straight line. A shiver shot down Chris' spine. That chill came from the realization that the senior before him had that same sinister air of a serial killer. Sure, it was only a game; Chris knew it, but he wasn't so sure that Vergil saw it the same way. Did he really believe that he was in the middle of a war? A _real_ war?

His friends had warned him to stay away from the twins. He had been told that they were fucking insane, Vergil especially. This was the guy who would intimidate the meanest bully without saying a word or lifting a finger. Even some teachers feared having the older twin in their class.

Vergil was worlds apart from the happy-go-lucky mess that was Dante. There was Vergil, so stern and smart, so aloof and unapproachable that one felt that they would burst into flames if they so much as said hello. Dante was friendly enough, but still had that sarcastic streak about him. Overall, Chris was glad that Dante had chosen him to be on his team. Still there was the question about the platinum haired high school senior in front of him. Was Vergil as crazy as Chris' friends claimed? He was going to see it for himself.

Vergil opened and closed his mouth as if he was going to speak. He then turned his head looking over his shoulder, giving Chris only a profile view of the perfect slope of his nose. His snapped his head into another direction. Through the silence, the freshman could hear him sucking in air through his nostrils.

_Is he sniffing something_, the boy mentally questioned.

Vergil's attention snapped back to boy in front of him. He drew his captain's pistol faster than the brunette could react. The boy aimed his gun at the spiky-haired twin in response.

"Relax," Vergil finally uttered, "If I wanted shoot you; you'd be covered in paint by now."

"So why don't you," Chris questioned suspiciously at Vergil's sudden act of mercy.

"These things," Vergil strayed from the subject, "even as toys they are monstrosities. I'll never know why Dante likes them."

"Answer the question," Chris still had the gun trained at Vergil's chest.

"Never mind that," Vergil expertly twirled his finger on the gun's trigger guard, before facing the handle towards Chris. The action did make the boy visibly jump.

"What's this?"

"Give this to Dante and tell him he has an uninvited guest. He will understand what it means."

Chris snatched the gun and looked down at it before saying, "This had better not be a—," Chris had looked up to see he was alone in the hallway, "—trick."

----

Chris raced down the halls, sneakers squeaking on the floor. He crossed the area where his team was thinning out the blue ranks. There was no shoot anymore, which Chris optimistically took it to mean that Cortez and Diego had already captured the flag and were on their way back to the base. Well, that was better than the alternate theory. He couldn't dwell on it anyways; he had to get that message to Dante. He resented being the errand boy for that jerk, but what could he do?

He sped into the darkness, calling out to his team captain with his head swiveling in nearly every direction. He continued running until he collided with what felt like solid stone. He quickly removed his face from the figure's rock hard abs.

"Didn't your mama ever teach not to go runnin' in the dark?" He recognized that audacious voice anywhere. But just to make sure—

"Dante?"

"The one and only." _Yep, that's him alright._

Chris brought his eyes up to see Dante's face slightly aglow with specks of neon paint.  
The guy was probably only six inches taller than him, but he felt a like a pygmy under the steely gaze of a giant. He handed over the gun and told him Vergil's message.

"I figured as much," Dante sighed as he shrugged his shoulders, "every time I have a party, we hit the jackpot sooner or later. Look, you guys chill out at the base for a little bit. V and me gotta talk."

With that, Dante walked off into the dark. Moments later, he met up with Vergil who casually leaned against a wall with both family keepsake swords in hand.

"Well, that was quick," Dante said as he approached.

Vergil gave a quick shrug, "Teleportation has its advantages." He tossed Rebellion to Dante, who caught the massive blade in mid-air before it could slice off an ear.

"Were you itching for a fight," Dante teased with a grin.

Vergil gave another shrug in response and nudged his head into the direction of southern stairwell, signaling to Dante that he was ready to go. The younger twin followed, relying on Vergil's more acute senses. They walked down a long stretch of pitch black. The pair only got within a few feet when Dante began humming the _X-files_ theme song.

"Dante?"

"Do-do-doo-doooo. Nuh-na-na-na-nuh."

"Dante!"

"Scully." Dante pretended to be oblivious to the annoyance he was causing.

"I swear to—" Vergil trailed off, rubbing the bridge of his nose, desperately trying not kill his twin.

"Verge?" Dante became serious.

"What?"

"Why do you think it would be here in the first place?"

"Being in its territory readily comes to mind," Vergil gave a simple answer as he glanced around a corner.

"Like I'd lead a group of unsuspecting humans into a devil's lair for the slaughter," Dante rolled his eyes, "Give me a little more credit than that, man."

"I don't doubt that you checked the place out Dante, but it's not without possibility that you missed something. But I do get the feeling that it is looking for something or someone in particular."

"What makes you say that?"

"Simple. It hasn't attacked anyone yet."

No sooner did the words leave Vergil's mouth, screams echoed through the abandoned school.

"Verge?"

"I know, I know," Vergil shifted his eyes into every conceivable direction as he unsheathed his sword, "stay focused."

Dante swallowed a lump in his throat and concentrated on sensing the threat. There was a loud thud behind Dante and before he could turn to face it, he was knocked through a far window and into the gravel parking lot. Vergil held his sword before him, on guard from the barely visible demonic form in front of him. He glanced out to where Dante lay and saw that he was motionless. Vergil turned his attention back to the demon.

"Give us the nephilim," it bellowed, confirming Vergil's suspicions.

"Nephilim," Vergil questioned aloud.

"Deliver the spawn of the traitor, or die," it roared. It dawned on Vergil that the demon wasn't referring to a child of Sparda.

* * *

Just got back into playing God of War 2 and let me tell you that Zeus is an "effin" cheater on "effin" god mode. GAH! But I digress. Did you like it or you rather I burned it? Let me know.


	10. Bruises

'Cuz it plays like an awesome fight song. Need I say more?

Thanks to all readers, reviewers, and adders. It really rocks mah socks! Special shout outs go to: **Mariposa-Princessa, Shadow-of-a-Wolf, Phant0m, Ranchdressing , Shadow'sIllusionist, ninjaeris13, zenbon zakura, Mithral Rose, G. U. 3. S. S.**

Thanks for the votes of confidence.

_Please leave me alone__  
__For I cannot let this go__  
__It's the lie that I live__  
__Everything that I give__  
__Shut the fuck up!__  
__Please tell me that I have grown__  
__For I have bruises left to show__  
__And I fall in between everything__  
__Let me see__  
__Come on get up__  
__Let me see your bruises _

—Unloco

* * *

Chapter 10: "Bruises"

"Damn," Vergil muttered. _Trapped_, was the only word that seemed to surface to mind as he focused on the nearly invisible form in front of him. The demon stood at around eight feet tall and was reptilian in nature. Its silhouette reminded him of some type of miniature Tyrannosaurus Rex. It very nearly grossed him out at how well and seamlessly the thing could blend into its surrounding. He shot another glance at Dante was still laid out in the gravel parking lot, as still as death.

_Get up!_ He silently willed.

No. He couldn't be. Vergil would know if his twin had died. He was probably only unconscious, which was a scenario Vergil could live with at the moment. It meant that given his brother's healing abilities, he'd come around eventually. But when?

Nevermind that! The shrouded figure was closing in. It staggered past the boarded window Dante was knocked through. Vergil could barely make out its outline with the scant light refracting off its chameleonic skin. It inched closer with an overpowering aura. That in and of itself set off alarms in Vergil's head. _How could a lesser demon _feel_ so powerful?_

Much stranger than any demon he had encountered before, Vergil would have had a vested interest in studying its physiology; but he had more pressing matters… like his _survival_. Vergil brought his sword up and around to make quick work of the unseen demon. Yamato parted the air molecules and shimmered in the semi-darkness. Such perfect form, so much power behind that singular stroke. A smirk parted Vergil's lips when he was sure his strike would part his enemy like the Red Sea. He could practically see the delayed blood spurts that were sure to be in the demon's near future.

Then something happened that Vergil would have never thought possible in his in wildest dreams… or nightmares for that matter. He missed. How was that possible? He never missed a target. _Never_ in his short, but eventful life as the Dark Slayer. Could it be that senses were playing tricks on him? Sure, he could hardly see the thing, but knew it was in front him. Even a blind man could secure a hit at this range.

But he was sure that he had seen his blade slice through the monster's left shoulder and easily exited through to its right hip like a hot knife through butter. How could it have passed through it harmlessly?

It still didn't change that it was there, drawing closer with its oppressive aura. That air around it was so _different_. It was completely uncharacteristic of a lesser demon and more suited to higher level devil; a knight class perhaps. It nagged in his mind, causing more and more theorems to formulize in the young half-devil's mind.

Vergil had always been the one to actively pursue knowledge, even in the midst of battle. To him it was all one rapid cycle; study your opponent's moves, know them… commit them to memory and if and when all works well, you gain more experience for the next battle. And that was life to Vergil… the fight and journey to the next one and then the next. He applied it to slaying lesser demons that vied for his blood and even to school work. That made him more suited to be a real-life RPG character, if only for his vested interest in gaining more experience points.

With all the things he knew about war, one would think him to be the next Sun Tzu.

If anything, the boy was very much an experimentalist. He just_ had _to test every theory that came to mind. He stood staunch in his stance once more, taking yet another swipe at the demon, but this time aiming for its head. Vergil made it a point to watch the _exact_ spot where his strike would land.

Yamato was swung, once again slicing through its target. It was faint, but Vergil caught on. For the briefest of seconds, Vergil saw a yellow spark that appeared to be a magical rune. He figured it to be ancient powers at work; whether it was demonic or human in nature, Vergil had no clue. But some things made sense now. The thing was corporal; that was for sure… otherwise it wouldn't have been able to incapacitate Dante like it had. Secondly, it had to have been protected some entity. That was apparent enough by the phasing ability that it shouldn't have been able to have; that was an upper level power.

His mind came back to the devil theory. He smelled the higher-leveled devil all over it. It begged the question: If there is a stronger devil protecting this demon, then why would it send a in such a weakling to fight on its behalf? Other troubling inquiries soon followed. Why _would_ a devil protect a lesser demon in the first place?

Then came the more disturbing revelation… Someone was _watching_ him. He felt the unseen eyes, leering at him, scrutinizing each movement. _He's testing me_, Vergil mentally concluded. He hated this feeling. This feeling that someone else knew something he didn't. In his opinion, this type of thing should never happen. He hated that he was under someone's microscope; he should only be able to do that. He should be the only one to study and calculate the moves of his prey. He was better than that!

Vergil brought his sword up into a helm breaker. He knew that the attack would be fruitless, but that experimentalist reared its head again. He slammed the blade down with all of his might only to have deflected with CLANK as if he had hit a stone wall. The highlighted rune remained hovering above the demon along with rippling of some sort of an invisible force field. It waivered for a moment, revealing the demon's true form before it was once again sent into visual obscurity.

_He's me keeping on my toes_, Vergil assessed. If he wasn't fighting against an unseen devil's minion, he would appreciate the strategy. The devil had changed the spell in mid-battle and that was by no means a minor feat. That was something that took up immense concentration, stamina, and skill. They were qualities of which Vergil could only begin to dream. Liz had taught Vergil some magic, but this thing was light years ahead of what he was learning.

Vergil eyed its silhouette, before it and its overwhelming aura disappeared. To where? He had no clue. The boy quickly snapped out of the stance, cautiously circling about the room and casting a glance in every conceivable direction.

It was simply gone. He could no longer sense it, not even the unseen eyes from before. He'd asked himself 'why' countless times during the short scuffle. And the realization hit. Some things he figured prior to his recent epiphany. He laid the facts out into something of a mental checklist.

One, the demon sent in search of a half-breed, but it wasn't him or his brother. Two, the demon was summoned by a devil to do his bidding… whatever that may be. But why? Why not face him on his own? Could it be that it's a devil not quite strong enough to crossover to the human world? What was the significance of this half-breed he searched for? It would make sense that this nephilim he desired was unwitting to the power he or she wielded. More sobering yet was that one in question could be used to fully manifest this devil and his powers, unleashing hell on earth.

Then again, he could be jumping to conclusions. Maybe this unseen hand merely searched for a worthy adversary. _Yeah, right._

There was a final question that made him freeze in mid-stride. What entity is that powerful that it can project its influence into the Human World, but so weak at the same time that it can't enter its physical being? He took a longer time pondering this one than any other question. There were indeed other forces at play here. Someone or something invited this thing in from this side! The next logical question Vergil began to touch upon was who or what.

The more questions that flooded in the more his head began to hurt. He wanted to play detective get to the bottom of it, but of the same token he had to drop it if he wanted to survive against this creature.

And ever the self-preservationist, he hatched an escape plan. He would make a beeline for the exit. Vergil sheathed Yamato moved to the doorway to exit the abandoned school. He found himself unable to move. His stopped with a hand firmly gripping the rotten doorjamb. His legs disobeyed him, remaining rooted in place. Every fiber of his being pleaded for him to save himself. It stood to reason that Dante could take of himself and the humans… Well, he could care less.

Still, something inside made him stay.

_What are you doing? Run!_His brain screamed. He wondered where the conflict came from. Was it his stubborn pride trying to coerce him into staying to fight an unwinnable battle or did he suddenly develop a conscience that made him feel bad for the humans upstairs. Surely he was no bleeding heart like his father and brother. Plus he saw the point of running, he truly did, after all it was a part of the rules of engagement he was brought up into. _Hold your sword steady and strong, retreat only as a last resort._

He truly believed that it was better to die in battle than to live and be branded as a coward. But on the same token, this was the type of battle that warranted one to run and live to fight another day. Besides, if he had continued to fight and died, who'd take care of his bumbling buffoon of a little brother?

There was another pang of guilt that washed over him. He couldn't leave Dante to fight this thing on his own. He'd never forgive himself if Dante got killed over his selfishness. Also, Dante _would_ continue to hold a grudge if any of his precious human friends were harmed under this demon's siege. He just _knew_. Then there was the matter of that half-breed the demon was looking for. Who was it? Which one of these humans were actually devils in disguise? He had to know. Maybe it would be in his best interest to stick around.

He moved to walk down the hallway and up the southern stairs. With his sword still drawn, he cautiously stalked his intended path. He passed the area where the main office and infirmary used to stand and froze when he felt that aura filling his senses. Before Vergil could even register the monster's attack, neural synapses fired causing him perform a quick back flip. And again when yet another swipe from an inbound claw near took his head off. Vergil had never been so appreciative of his reflexes.

Vergil stood on guard and eyed the way the creature arched its back and began a full-bodied twirl. He realized that it was going to attack with its tail. He blocked the first, which cause him to slide backwards at the momentum placed upon the half-devil. It took all of his lower body strength and balance to keep from falling.

The scaly, spiny appendage carved up the linoleum tiles and into the concrete foundation below it. It roared in frustration and once again a curled its tail into an overhead strike. The young white haired warrior dove out of the way in the nick of time, but not before getting his leg caught by the incursion. But that didn't give him a reason to stop and nurse his twisted ankle. More concrete and drywall rained down upon him causing him to see the monster briefly in the dust cloud. Vergil half limped and half ran to the stairs without further thought. As he neared the middle landing, his eyes widened like dinner plates when he sensed it right in front of him.

He knew he was fast, but damn this thing was no slouch either!

"Damn… Checkmate," he uttered, knowing what would happen next. He squeezed his eyes closed and felt himself go deaf. He thanked whatever merciful deity that muted the sounds of the monster's claws ripping and tearing at his larynx. The intense pain dissipated after a moment and the air desperately gurgling at the sanguine caught in his windpipe stopped. He felt a chill wash over his body and reopened his glacial eyes to see his warm blood spray against the walls. His body went limp and he fell backwards down the stairs, landing among the rubble created by the monster. And the half-devil laid there covered in blood, with eyes set in its unwavering forward stare.

-----

"Ow. My head," Dante whined as he came to. He held it as if it would stop the incessant pounding. He gave himself a minute before attempting to move from his prone position. He curled his body up on to his knees and gingerly rubbed the side of his face where the irregular grey stones that formed the parking imprinted themselves as bright red marks on his skin. Dante sucked in air to combat his aching head and bruised ribs. He stood to his full height and picked up Rebellion which lay a few feet from him.

He hefted it on to his shoulder and stamped to the school's front door. He kicked it in, sending into splinters. When the shower of wood subsided, Dante went to work at tracking down the demon that wounded his pride.

Dante crossed the school's threshold and stepped onto the marred floors. He was careful not to make a sound or walk among loosed rubble for fear of alerting the enemy to his position. He continued down the short hallway, but paused at the scent of warm copper wafting on the stale air. _Blood_, he surmised. He found that he couldn't take another step forward. Had the demon killed everyone already? Was he too late to save his friends?

He could answer that question himself just by taking another whiff with his acute sense of smell. If he wanted to, he could estimate just how many bit the dust with that skill alone. But he found himself too afraid. There were some things that he just didn't want to know.

_Where's Vergil when you need him_, he mentally asked. As much as he hated to admit it, he found himself using his twin as crutch to get through certain situations; more so, since their reunion years ago. But right now, he didn't care about all of that, he just need his brother there to put these fears to bed.

To his knowledge, Christians normally touted a small phrase in extreme faith-testing situations like this one. How did it go again? What would Jesus do? By now, he had begun to speak his own mantra into being; what would Vergil do?

Strange as it may be, Vergil was a role model he could look up at the moment. Sure he was a cold, ruthless bastard… but his machine-like approach to the proverbial gray areas that would only stand to stump Dante's human morality compass was nothing short of amazing. Perhaps he was right that one time Liz tested them.

"_Imagine for a moment, boys that you are holed up in a room with several other humans. You are there to protect these already frightened people from the marauding demons outside of the door. You have found that there are simply too many to fight off and the only other option is to hide and wait until the demons give up and leave. An infant begins crying and you sense the demons drawing closer, attracted to its wails. What do you do?"_

"_It's simple," a fourteen-year-old Vergil was the first to speak up in a calm, even voice, "You silence it."_

_All three in the room knew just what he meant by silence it. "Wait," Dante replied while pushing back his rising emotions, "You can't just kill a baby! It's defenseless and hasn't had chance to live yet."_

"_All extraneous," Vergil casually stated, waving off Dante's reasoning, "The fact that it is young doesn't excuse that it will get you killed. It is merely a liability. You terminate the child to keep the demons from knowing your whereabouts. The point is to destroy one for the greater sake of many. In this case, the infant is expendable." _

"_How can you be so callous," Dante half shouted while failing to hold back the tears rushing to his eyes, "Did you ever think that the baby is crying because it's hungry? Maybe the mother is there and can feed it. Did you think of that? Have you exhausted all options first?"_

_Liz sat across from the two, silently moderating, choosing not to say a word since she explained the scenario to the twins. She took mental notes of the stark differences of the two boys. She slid her hazel eyes into Vergil's direction, unconsciously asking for his recourse on the matter._

_Vergil sighed heavily, probably at having to break things down for his sibling, or more likely that it was because he under the woman's scrutinizing gaze. "Okay, I'll indulge you. Let's say that the mother is present and that the child is indeed hungry. What makes you think that the infant will refrain from its bawling once it is finished? After all, babies only know how to eat, sleep, cry and defecate on themselves. For that matter, think of how stressful the situation just may be. The woman would more than likely be unable to feed the child. In this situation, it's more than plausible that the child was already orphaned in the demon attack. It would not be able to feed for it is probably too young to be weaned off its mother's breast milk. It will starve and allowing it to survive under such harsh conditions is nothing less than prolonging its suffering. The child would eventually die, even if you went out of your way to save it." _

"_That's not right! No one has to die! You can't put a price tag on human life, monetary or otherwise."_

"_Why? Because you live in some rose-colored world where everything is hunky-dory? Get with the program, Dante. You have to realize that if you are going to hunt demons, there are bound to be casualties and countless deaths to innocents. Saving the child is tantamount to raising your sword against every other human in that room. Their blood will be on your hands. And even in your efforts, the infant will die… either because its defenseless form was ravaged by a demon or from starvation in its future. Whatever decision you make in this scenario, I'll be sure to burn a candle for the lost child and your bleeding heart." Vergil uttered the latter, hiding his pure disdain for the human condition._

"_Vergil!" Liz called out at his insensitive statement._

_The boy turned his attention to the middle aged woman, "Did you not call us into this debate to gauge our reactions? You must know that deep down, I am right. This is a clear cut decision; if you want to save all you must sacrifice one. I guess if you were searching for the more moral twin, then I have failed this test. I may not know what would go through Dante's head if he was placed in the center of this, but I'm sure that he would try all possibilities before arriving to my conclusion, no matter how cornered he may be or how bleak the outcome. I on the other hand, chose the simpler option with the greater amount of human lives saved in the end. So sue me if my definition of decency isn't to the same standards as yours."_

_Vergil pushed his chair back and left Dante to press down his boiling rage and Liz to think about just how cold and calculating he could be. _

Dante shook himself to reality. Things would be far less complicated had he been more like his twin.

Yes, what exactly would Vergil do? Seek out the demon and destroy it? It did pack quite a punch. Would he run? Or would he put the remaining humans out of their misery? It stood to reason that his friends may have not survived the attack. It pained him to think that they all lay somewhere in the building breathing their last and mutilated beyond recognition.

He trekked through the stillness, growing more shaken that by the moment at the lack of signs of life. He subdued to impulse to call out to anyone. Like in the test, he feared having the demon drawn to him or worse yet, to his friends if they are alive. He stepped closer to the stairs, but paused in his stride when he heard a breathy, hissing sound.

His eyes grew to the size of saucers upon his realization. It was unmistakable. He heard it when he was younger when he watched his mother die. That unmistakable death rattle. He swore that he would hunt demons so that he'd never hear it again. He made it his own creed became that everyone deserved a peaceful death, free from being fodder for demons. Someone, somewhere below him was _dying_.

It unnerved him to no end. He began to finger the dimly glowing amulet under his shirt but promptly dropped his hands away from it as if it had burned him. In that instant, he _knew_ who was trapped under the rubble. There was nothing scarier than just automatically knowing. But, he'd never dare to admit it.

"No," he whispered in denial, "Vergil."

To be honest, he would have never thought that in a million years, Vergil would fall victim… to well… anything. With all of his talk of being prepared for battle and true strength, it made it impossible for Dante to feel worry for his twin. He never worried about Vergil because he just _knew_ that he'd come out on top. But to know otherwise, he couldn't fathom it.

Dante slid off the short pile of rocks and began digging through it at a frantic pace. He stopped when a pale, lifeless hand flopped from the pile covered in dust and blood. His entire body went limp and he slumped onto his bottom, frozen and afraid of what else he might find. He put a hand to his open mouth to muffle any squeal of despair that might arise.

Something deep inside pushed him into drive. He moved more rocks revealing the dirtied and bloodied mirror image before him. Dante couldn't bear to look into Vergil's glassy eyes, but there was no choice in digging him out; either to save him or grant him a proper burial. It sickened him even more to see Vergil's shredded neck with broken veins hanging out like arrant tendrils and the cracked white shells, which Dante took to be bone and cartilage.

He dragged Vergil out of the mound, adverting his eyes from the ghastly wound and trained on the amulet resting on his twin's chest. It twinkled slowly and dimly almost as if it were beating in time to a heart ready to peter out. It gave Dante _some _hope. It meant that Vergil still alive; just barely, but there was indeed something left behind those lifeless eyes.

What was Vergil's first rule? Be prepared, right? So that _must_ mean that he had enough foresight to bring some kind of demonic item. Dante quickly searched Vergil's person for the possibility of a vital star. Alas, Dante was only able to come up with a gold orb and crystalline orb filled with Holy Water.

Dante growled in frustration at the uselessness of the two items. Both were no help. Vergil wasn't dead, so a gold orb wouldn't help in his healing and Holy Water would only hinder it. He supposed that he could wait until Vergil did pass away to use the golden one, but there were still no guarantees that it would work. Well, when in doubt, there's always blood to kick start a demon's regeneration.

"Shit," Dante sighed in exasperation, "Leave it to you to get your throat torn out and not bring the appropriate party favors."

Vergil's face remained unchanged from its stern expression.

"You're supposed to laugh, dickhead," Dante darkly jested as he slit open his wrists on the edge of Rebellion. He hovered them above Vergil's open wound and allowed his blood to drop freely into its abyss. Of course, his wrists healed after a few drops, so he'd reopen them and repeat the process until Vergil was better.

_Guess, I proved V wrong_, came the morose thought, _It_ is _pointless for_ _half-breeds to self-mutilate. Therefore there aren't emo folks in the Demon's World._

More blood was introduced to Vergil's fallen form and Dante began to feel that tide of fatigue threatening to rush him. He watched as Vergil's neck slowly began to rebuild itself. He felt his heart swell in elation he spied his twin's fingers briefly clench and unclench. It was a start and he was already beat. If the demon came for them now, they'd both be done for.

He allowed his tired body a moment of reprieve as he lay against one of the stacks of rubble. Little by little, those brilliant blue eyes began to disappear behind his eyelids. They shot open once more when he heard a sharp intake of breath and pained grunt to his left.

"V," he cautiously began, "You okay?"

"Fucking peachy keen," Vergil retorted with the sarcasm fresh in his voice. Dante was truly relieved to hear that Vergil was okay... well close enough to okay. His voice took on a gritty, tinny quality as if he gargled on rusty nails and broken glass then decided to speak through a mechanical voice box.

Surely he would comment on it, if he had the energy.

"Hey, Dante?"

"Yeah."

"I'm glad your sense of inappropriate humor remains intact as I lay dying."

"I don't make fun of _your_ defense mechanisms. It's a good thing this place isn't on fire or caving in, 'cause we'd _really_ be screwed." The two would have shared in a laugh if they weren't beaten by lethargy.

"You should know that the demon was looking for someone," Vergil stated, "I don't think its still here. I can't sense it any longer. It was looking for a half-breed, like us. For what reasons, I haven't the foggiest."

Dante didn't reply.

"Dante, one of your friends is that nephilim."

Just as Vergil did earlier, he came to the same conclusions and repercussion scenarios if this person was found out. He didn't make a gasp, or any response of surprise or emotion. Dante only pulled a cell phone from his coveralls and tossed it to Vergil. "Call the Miz... We're gonna need some help battin' clean up." Dante pulled himself to his aching feet, put his game face on and made his way upstairs.

------

"So, Dante rides off to kick demon ass," Lucia arched a skeptical eyebrow, "On compromised health no less. I've seen better from PG rated movie plots."

"Say what you want, babe, but I'm only speaking the truth here." Dante leaned back in his chair and shifted an eye to Vergil's direction for corroboration. The blue clad twin nodded in agreement.

"See... would this face steer you wrong," Dante crowed.

"Don't just leave it there," sat Lady eager to know more, "What happened next?" The trio of women looked expectantly at the red clad hunter who froze at being put on the spot.

Vergil took it upon himself to answer, "The demon had already left, probably called back by its master. The humans were safe while understandably shake at seeing the demon. Miz Liz arrived at the scene and erased their memories. She implanted new ones. They were sent off to their homes, believing that the old, decrepit building breathed its last and the crumbling foundation caused us to end our game early."

"Liz seems to have been quite the person," Trish added.

"Yes, very wise," Vergil replied, "She was able to handle many situations with an ease and finesse that even I envy. She was one of the few humans I wished to emulate."

"I think she'd be proud of you. Both of you," Lady said.

* * *

I just don't know any more. Reviews?


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